"I was afraid of that." Honor sighed. "Well, it seems we're in your hands. How soon can we get started?"
"I'll get my own survey people over here within the hour," Tankersley promised. "We're still pretty busy with expansion work, but I think I can juggle my schedules a bit and start clearing away the control runs by next watch. I've got a tin-can in Slip Two with her after impeller ring wide open, and my exterior crews will need another day or so to button her back up. As soon as they're finished, Nike gets top priority."
"Outstanding," Honor said. "If I have to turn my ship over to someone, Captain, I'm glad it's at least someone who gets right to it."
"Oh, I'll certainly do that, Milady!" Tankersley turned back from his study of the bulkheads with a grin. "No mere yard dog wants a starship captain on his neck. Don't worry. We'll have you back up as quickly as possible."
Admiral Mark Sarnow looked up and touched a stud as the admittance chime sounded.
"Yes?"
"Staff Communications Officer, Sir," his sentry announced, and Sarnow nodded in satisfaction.
"Enter," he said, and smiled as the hatch opened to admit a tall, gangling redhead in a lieutenant commander's uniform. "So, Samuel. May I assume you bear word from the repair base?"
"Yes, Sir." Lieutenant Commander Webster held out a message board. "Captain Tankersley's estimate on Nike's repairs, Sir."
"Ah." Sarnow accepted the board and laid it on his desk. "I'll read it later. Just give me the bad news first."
"It's not all that bad. Sir." Webster's formal expression turned into a smile of his own. "The housings definitely shot, but Captain Tankersley figures they can have a replacement-in place within fourteen weeks."
"Fourteen weeks, eh?" Sarnow rubbed his brushy mustache, green eyes thoughtful. "I hate to have her down that long, but you're rightit is better than I was afraid of." He leaned back, still stroking his moustache, then nodded. "Inform Admiral Parks I think we can allow Irresistible to depart on schedule, Samuel."
"Yes, Sir." Webster braced briefly to attention and started to leave, but Sarnow raised a hand.
"Just a minute, Samuel." The lieutenant commander paused, and the admiral gestured at a chair. "Have a seat."
"Yes, Sir." Webster sank into the indicated chair, and Sarnow let his own swivel slowly back and forth as he frowned down at his desk. Then he looked back up to meet his com officer's eyes.
"You were in Basilisk with Lady Harrington?" His tone made the question a statement, and memory darkened Webster's eyes. One hand rose to his chest, almost by reflex, but he snatched it back down and nodded.
"Yes, Sir. I was."
"Tell me a little about her." Sarnow tipped his chair back and watched the lieutenant commander's face. "Oh, I've read her record, but I don't have any sort of real feel for her personality."
"I" Webster paused and cleared his throat at the unexpected question, and Sarnow waited patiently while he got his thoughts in order. RMN personnel were seldom invited to comment on their seniorsespecially their ex-COsand, as a rule, the admiral disliked officers who encouraged people to do so. But he didn't retract the request. Admiral Parks hadn't actually said anything, yet his reservations about Harrington were obvious in the way he hadn't said it.
Honor Harrington had more command combat experience than any two other officers her age. Nothing in Sarnow's download of her record seemed to justify any admiral's being less than delighted to have a captain of her proven ability under his command, yet Parks obviously was. Was that because he knew something Sarnow didn't? Something that wasn't in her official personnel jacket?
Of course, Parks always had been a nitpicker where military etiquette was concerned. No one could deny his competence, but he could be depressingly prim and properin fact, he was a pretty cold damned fishand Sarnow had heard the gossip about Harrington. He also knew there were always stories, especially about officers who'd achieved what she had; the problem was knowing which were based in fact and which in fancy. What worried him were the ones that suggested she was hotheadedeven arrogantand he more than suspected it was those same reports that concerned Parks, as well.
He could discount a lot of them as the work of those jealous of her achievements, and the Admiralty would hardly give any officer they had doubts about command of Nike. But there was always the specter of personal influence, and by all accounts, Admiral White Haven had decided to make Harrington's career some sort of personal project. Sarnow knew White Haven, if not well, and his obvious partisanship probably reflected his own belief that Harrington was every bit as good as her record indicated. It was an admiral's job to nurture outstanding junior officers, after all. But, in a way, White Havens very reputation for refusing to play the influence game for anyone in the past made his present efforts on her behalf just the least bit suspect.
Yet whatever anyone else thought of her, she was now Sarnow's flag captain. He had to know the woman behind the stories, not just the "official" record. For that he needed input from someone who knew her, and Webster was hardly a typical junior officer. Despite his youth, Samuel Webster had probably seen more senior officers, both socially and professionally, than Sarnow had. He'd also been critically wounded under Harrington's command, which should counteract any tendency to idealize her. More than that, he was bright and observant, and Sarnow trusted his judgment.
Webster settled himself deeper in his chair, unaware of Sarnow's thoughts, and wished his admiral hadn't asked him. It felt disloyal to discuss Captain Harrington with her current superior. But he was no longer her com officer; he was Admiral Sarnow's.
"I'm not certain what you're asking for, Sir," he said finally.
"I know I'm making you uncomfortable, Samuel, but you're the only member of my staff who's actually met her, and" The admiral waved his hand, unwilling to explain the reason for his concern, and Webster sighed.
"In that case, Admiral, all I can say is that she's the best," he said finally. "We had some serious problems when they banished us to Basilisk, and the Captain well, she dealt with them, Sir, and I never heard her raise her voice once while she did it. You know what Basilisk Station used to be like, and we weren't exactly the best crew anyone ever gave a captain, either. Not when we arrived. But, by God, Admiral, we were when we left!"
Sarnow leaned back, surprised by Webster's vehemence, and the com officer looked away before he went on.
"The Captain gets the best out of her peoplesometimes more than they ever guessed they could giveand I don't really think it's anything she does. It's who she is, Sir. You trust her. You know she'll never let you down, and when the shit hits the fan, you know she'll get you out of it if anyone can. I'm a com officer, not a tac specialist, but I saw enough in Basilisk to realize how good she really is. I don't know if you've been briefed on just how BuShips butchered our armament, Admiral, but we were so far out of our league it was pitiful. We all knew that from the start, but the Captain took us in anyway. The Peeps smashed us into a wreck, Sirthree-quarters of our people were dead or wounded, but she kept right on coming, and somehow she took them out. I don't know if anyone else could have done it, but she did."
The lieutenant commanders voice was soft, almost inaudible in the quiet cabin, and he stared down at his hands.