They passed no one, and neither of them spoke. When they reached her quarters, she preceded him through the door, and went around behind her desk. “Have a seat,” she offered, but he stood before her desk like any junior officer called before her. His eyes, after one quick flicker around the room, settled on her face. She waited, wondering if she must prompt him with a question, but he spoke before her patience ran out.
“I came to offer you formal apologies on behalf of the family,” he said, stopping there as if he had run into a wall.
“You?” Her mind raced. Formal apology? If they had wanted to apologize, if this were genuine, they’d have sent someone more senior. Not one of the admirals Serrano, of course, but someone her former rank or above.
Barin flushed at her tone. “Captain Serrano, I admit I—perhaps I overstated my authority.” That had the phrasing learned in the classroom.
“Go on,” she said. In her voice she heard authority and wariness mingled.
He did not answer at once, and she let her gaze sharpen. What had he done, gone AWOL? But his answer, when it came, seemed just possible. “My grandmother—your aunt, Admiral Vida Serrano—asked me to find you. With apologies: no one more senior could be spared, under the circumstances.”
“The circumstances being?” All her old instincts had come alert.
“The unsettled state of things in the Familias, that is. All leaves canceled, all active-duty personnel called in—”
“I know what all leaves canceled means,” Heris said, dryly. “But I also know they released all the Royal junior officers and dispersed the onplanet regiment on Rockhouse—”
“Things have . . . changed,” Barin said. “Glenis and I were the only ones old enough, that didn’t have other assignments. She went up-axis and I went down—they weren’t sure where and when we’d catch up with you, you see.”
“But the point is . . . apology? And for what?” As if she didn’t know; as if her heart didn’t burn with it.
“For not backing you when you were under investigation,” Barin said. In his young voice, it sounded innocent enough; she wondered if he understood what had happened, if his elders had explained it to him. “I was told to say that your aunt the Admiral Serrano was not informed until too late of the situation you were in, and would certainly have given you assistance had she known.”
Her aunt the admiral. It was just possible that she had not known, until after Heris’s resignation, if no one had thought to inform her. But she should have been told. She was then the most distant high-ranking family member, but not the only one. Other admirals Serrano had been closer, must have known about it. Why hadn’t one of them done something?
Barin went on then, as if he had been reading her thoughts. “I—I didn’t know any of this before, sir. Ma’am.”
That bobble made Heris grin before she thought. “I wouldn’t expect you would have,” she said.
“I mean, the admiral said there was some kind of trouble in the family, something she hadn’t anticipated. Not whatever it was with you, but—”
Heris felt her brows rising. “You mean you don’t know what happened to me? Whatever’s happened to the grapevine? It’s been long enough I’d expect it to be all over every prep school with a single Fleet brat in it.”
He flushed. “There’ve been rumors—”
“I would hope so. What’s a lifetime of experience for, if not to make rumors fly? Let me straighten out a few things for you, young man.” She paused, thinking how best to put it. Honesty first, and tact second, but without bitterness if she could manage it. “What happened was that I accomplished my assigned mission, but not in the way I’d been told to do it. My way saved lives, but it made an admiral look stupid—Lepescu, if you ever heard of him.”
“Uh . . . no, I haven’t.”
“Bloodthirsty bastard,” Heris said. “He liked wasting troops. I killed him—”
“What!” He looked as if the sky had just fallen; she almost laughed. Had she ever been that innocently certain that everyone followed the rules, that hierarchies never tumbled?
“Not then. Sorry; I got out of sequence. Let’s see. He was furious that I had not won the battle his way, and swore he’d get revenge. There was a Board of Inquiry, of course. Evidence had . . . disappeared.” She didn’t really want to tell him how; it was too complicated, and involved too many names he might know. “I was offered immunity for my crew if I would resign my commission,” she went on. “Otherwise, courts-martial for all. Considering Lepescu’s position—the Rules of Engagement—and the fact that no one from the family spoke for me, I decided to resign and save my crew.”
He stared at her; clearly he hadn’t heard this before. “But—but why didn’t—?”
“I don’t know why someone didn’t do something. Let me finish.” More bite got through than she intended; he flinched. It wasn’t his fault, she reminded herself, and tried to breathe slowly. “What I didn’t know was that after I resigned, after I was gone from his sector, Lepescu charged my crew. Most were convicted of serious breaches of regulation and were dispersed to various Fleet prisons. Some—” The old rage blanked her vision for a moment and she had to force another deep breath to continue. “Some he took to a private hunting reserve and hunted.”
“Hunted . . . you mean . . . like animals?”
“Precisely. With friends of his who liked the same thing.” She didn’t mention the prince; his death had earned her silence.
“How did you . . . how did you find out?” That had not been the first question he thought of; she answered what she thought it had been.
“I killed him when I found him, which was—luckily for me—in the process of that hunting trip, when his guilt was not in question. My crew—the survivors—were rehabilitated and given the choice of remaining in Fleet or taking a settlement and going civilian. Some of them are here, with me.”
“Couldn’t you have gone back?” He looked puzzled.
“Of course. But—” Heris wondered how much to explain to this young man—this mere child, as he seemed to her. Could he understand that it wasn’t merely pique? She’d already explained more than he was likely to absorb. He knew no world but Fleet; he could imagine no other choice than returning to it. “So,” she said, changing direction. “That’s what my side of the trouble was like. Now—what did the admiral want me to know?”
He looked confused a moment, then got back to it. “She didn’t explain much, really. She wanted you to know she hadn’t known about your trouble in time, and I think she blames some of the others in the family.” As well she might. “Uh . . . your parents among them . . .”
“It’s not my problem now,” Heris said crisply. She wasn’t about to discuss her parents with him.
“No . . . but she’d like to talk to you, the next time you’re anywhere near.”
Which was likely to be a long time from now. “Did she give you an itinerary?” Already her mind had moved beyond this to how she was going to ease this young relation off the ship and on his way.
“Yes—here.” He fished in his pocket and came up with a small datacube. “It’s compressed format—she sent an adapter in case you don’t have a reader with the right interface.”
“Thanks,” Heris said. She wasn’t going to tell him that she had a couple of experts who could strip the data out of virtually any storage device. Whatever her aunt the admiral was up to, she would keep her own secrets.
Someone tapped at the door. Barin looked around, and Heris called, “Come on in.”
Brun opened the door. “Captain, the new installations are ready for inspection.”
“Thank you; I’ll be along shortly.” Heris repressed a grin. Brun definitely had the right touch, timing and tone both impeccable. Brun nodded and withdrew.
“I’ll—I’ll be going,” Barin said, with a hint of nervousness.