No Honor in Death (8 page)

Moments after the steward delivered her cup, she saw a tall, blond officer walk into the mess, limping slightly and leaning on a black, silver-trimmed cane.  Siobhan watched Ezekiel approach with the same anguish she'd felt before calling him earlier that morning.  A born athlete, he used to have an energetic, strong stride.  Now, he was a cripple.

She rose as he got near and looked into his smiling face.  The image on the vidscreen hadn't lied.  Ezekiel was delighted to see her.  They almost embraced, but propriety reduced the effusiveness of the reunion to a simple handshake.

"You're a sight for a one-eyed pirate, skipper," he said, holding her gloved hand in his own, "and getting lovelier all the time.  If I didn't think of you as the older sister I never had, I'd try working the old Holt charm on you."

Siobhan couldn't help but smile at his ebullience.  She knew she looked half-starved and driven, and Ezekiel's compliment touched her deeply.

"Don't change, ever, Ezekiel," Siobhan replied, smiling with delight.

"Why change a winning formula, skipper.  After the war, when the medics have finished rebuilding all those kids who took it worse than me, I'll be just as good as new."

He sat down with a wince, and Siobhan's look of concern returned.  But Ezekiel waved it away.

"Substandard bionic leg.  Nerve connections constantly on the fritz.  On bad days, it's like I've got arthritis.  But most of the time, I can't feel it.  Like I said, when this shindig is over, I'll get myself fixed properly.  At least the hand works fine."  He flexed his gloved left hand experimentally a few times.  Then, he pointed at Siobhan's own hands.  "I see you're waiting to get yours fixed too.  Maybe you should wear those things after the war anyways.  Gives you a kind of dangerous look."

"Just like that eye patch."

Ezekiel sighed theatrically.  "War is hell.  Hey, in a room full of air-brushed aristo officers, guess who gets the ladies' attention first, and keeps it?  I kinda like the patch by now."

Siobhan shook her head.  "You're a real marvel, Ezekiel.  I wish I could take you on as my Number One, eye patch, bionics and all.  I sure could use you right now."

His face became serious all of a sudden.  "So I hear, skipper.  Sorry I can't oblige.  One-eye gimps get permanent shore billets."  There was no rancour or bitterness in his tone.  Only acceptance and a hint of regret.

Ezekiel had been speaking the utter truth when he compared Siobhan to an older sister.  He had a deep affection for her, and a lot of respect.  Hot-headed and stubborn she may be, but as a warship captain, she had few equals.  And all too many enemies.  The crew aboard the
Shenzen
had literally worshipped the deck planking she walked on.

"So," he continued, "I hear you've been doing grand deeds since we rescued Task Force 301."

"Depends who's talking, Ezekiel.  But yeah, I did have a bit of action at the Sigma Noctae Fleet Depot."

"Way I hear it, you saved the goddamn place single-handed, after cleaning up the rot and putting a coupla dozen shady operations out of business."

"Always take space tales with a grain of salt, Ezekiel."

He shrugged, ignoring the edge of cynicism in her voice.  Under the circumstances, she was entitled to take a darker view.  But it saddened him nonetheless.  Siobhan had been more spirited, cheerful and defiant the last time he saw her.

"I know you, skipper, and you never do things by half.  It endears you to us good guys, but we don't have a monopoly on the Fleet.  Shall we order?"

They caught up on each other's lives while they ate, Ezekiel passing lightly over his time at the Wyvern Fleet Hospital, with its weeks of regen therapy and the subsequent fitting of bionics and rehabilitation.  But he kept her laughing with his stories about the War College, which Siobhan had not attended, and probably never would.

Dunmoore, in return, talked mainly about the happy days aboard the
Victoria Regina
, or some of the more outrageous stunts she'd pulled at the Sigma Noctae Depot.  The old friendship was still there and for Siobhan it was a blessed relief to be with someone she liked and trusted. Since Adnan Prighte's death, she'd felt alone and in her loneliness, often fell into the trap of self-pity.  With Ezekiel, it was impossible to remain morose.  They had grown close a long time ago, and that closeness came back with frightening ease, as if the intervening years had never happened.

Once coffee was served, Ezekiel lit a small cigar, grinning apologetically at Siobhan.  "Little habit I picked-up.  It helps on my bad days.  Some active ingredient in the weed."

He puffed contentedly for a few minutes, comfortable in the silence, and Siobhan saw his features relax as the herbal mixture temporarily covered his pain.  Things weren't quite as rosy as Ezekiel had let on, but she decided not to touch the subject again.  Her old friend had gone to some lengths to make sure she didn't feel guilty about his injuries, and if he wanted to hide his true condition, then so be it.  At least one of them could have some peace of mind.  She owed him that.

"I'm glad you called me," he finally said, "and not only to catch up on old times.  I guess my returning every one of those transfer requests gave you the bug to check out who signed the damn memo."

"And you waited until I was on board to send that, and the regrets about replacements."

"Yeah.  What I've got to tell you isn't something you discuss over an open commlink."

"Hence the officer's mess."

"Right again.  In my spare time, I also took some counter-intelligence training so I know a bit about covering my tracks."  For a moment, Siobhan didn't know whether to take him seriously, then she saw the hard glint in his single blue eye.

"I hate to say this, skipper, but you've taken on an ugly can of trouble. Since I know a few things I shouldn't, I figured it was only fair that you know them too. I presume you know who your predecessor was?"

"Helen Forenza.  We were classmates at the Academy."  Siobhan's lips compressed into a thin line as her face hardened.  "She's living proof that the Commonwealth is sinking into the biggest rot since the demise of the Roman Empire."

"Yeah, a real sweetheart.  The day someone decides to stop passing assholes through the Academy because they come from well-connected families, the quality of the officer corps is gonna go up substantially.  We might even win the war for a change.  Anyway, that's the heart of your problem.  Forenza.  Do you know why she was relieved of command?"

"No.  There's a conspiracy of silence when I'm around.  But I can guess, seeing the state of the ship.

"Partially right.  I've been here for the last six months, and in that time, the
Stingray
hasn't brought a single Imperial ship to task.  Not one.  And God knows frigates get every bloody chance there is.  The real story is buried so far I can't get my hands on it, but it's more than just incompetence on Forenza's part.  Some say she's yellow from tip to tail."

"And they'd be right.  She was one hell of a bully at the Academy."

"Yeah, well hold on to your hat, skipper.  It's supposed to be a big secret, some sort of judicial gag, but the story is, on her last cruise, she failed to answer the calls for assistance from a battleship under attack by the Shrehari's biggest hot dog, a guy called Brakal."  When he saw Siobhan's face blanch, Ezekiel nodded.  "Yeah, that was your ship, the
Victoria Regina
.  It sort of confirms the stories that Forenza ran whenever there was an enemy bigger than a gunboat in the offing.  When the official report on the
Victoria Regina
's fight came back to battle-group, with a question from Admiral Nagira why the
Stingray
, which was in the area, didn't respond, Rear-Admiral Kaleri called the frigate home.  The moment she reached port, Kaleri impounded all her logs, had all the key officers questioned, and Forenza vanished planet side, without so much as a bosun's whistle for a farewell.  For your general fund of knowledge, the Kaleris and the Forenzas both hail from Mother Earth, have enough money to buy a couple of colonies cash on the barrel and probably belong to the same country clubs."

"So that's why the crew don't want to talk to me.  They know I was on the
Victoria Regina
."

"Hell, your face was plastered all over the Fleet News after you brought her home.  They know all right.  Probably damned scared that you'll find out and take Forenza's cowardice out on their hides."

"And with reason," Siobhan replied, anger colouring her cheeks.

"Easy, skipper."  Ezekiel placed his good hand over her forearm.  He knew her hot temper intimately, and wanted, no
needed
her to remain calm.  "Your crew's got a bad case of the beaten bantha syndrome.  From what I hear, Kaleri's been closing her eyes on a lot of things.  If Nagira hadn't given the order, Forenza would still be in command."

"Closing her eyes on what, Ezekiel?"  Siobhan's tone brooked no evasions.  Holt saw in her face that same determination and fire that had driven her to sail the
Shenzen
head-long into an Imperial Task Force and sure destruction.

"This is only rumours, you understand.  But stories go around that Forenza's been going through the crew like a whore at a convention.  And not just the guys, either."

Siobhan nodded.  "Not surprising, and not exactly news.  She did the same at the Academy.  I turned her down.  She's hated me ever since."

Ezekiel raised his eyebrows but didn't ask any questions.  "Story also is the ship's split into half a dozen factions who couldn't work together in a pickle even if the legendary Admiral Raskolnikov was on the bridge."

"Not surprising either.  By dividing the crew and officers against each other, they won't band together and work up the guts to relieve her.  It worked, if the crew let a distress call go without acting."

Ezekiel looked at his former Captain with renewed respect.  She'd always had a quick mind, and her troubles hadn't dimmed it a bit.  Good.  Admiral Nagira was going to get what he wanted, he was willing to bet his life on it.

"Then," he continued, "there's the accident that resulted in the death of a rating and a Petty Officer.  There's another beauty that vanished into the bureaucratic maze, never to be heard of again."

"Wasn't it an accident?"

"You tell me.  The investigating officer, a Sub-Lieutenant Byrn, was formally charged for impropriety two weeks later and, thanks to Admiral Kaleri, given a chance to resign for the good of the Service."

"But the computer said he was dismissed."

"Yeah, once the kid signed on the dotted line, they changed the voluntary resignation to an other than honorable dismissal."

"Didn't he protest?"

"He didn't have time.  The civilian courier carrying him home was attacked by privateers.  All the patrol ship found was exceedingly small debris.  With his death, his personal records are sealed and I don't know what the substance of the charges was." 
Or, to be accurate, I don't officially know.

"Ye gods," Siobhan suddenly shivered, "what the hell is going on, Ezekiel?"

"I could venture a dozen explanations, Skipper, but there comes a point where it just gets too damn dangerous to speak certain things out loud."

Somehow, Ezekiel's last comment worried Siobhan a lot more than anything else he'd said so far.  But she nodded slowly, a grim look spreading over her lean features.

"That would explain a hell of a lot of things, and it makes me wonder whether I shouldn't tell Nagira that the crew is beyond saving, that he should start from scratch."

"Not a good idea, Skipper."  Ezekiel shook his head.  "That would please Kaleri to no end.  She recommended the ship be put in long-term refit immediately.  Our good Admiral is not exactly pleased by your appointment, but she figures you'll fail and be discredited, which is second best.  And the crew will be dispersed anyways."

"So what is Kaleri afraid of?"

Ezekiel shrugged.  "Dunno, but there again, I can speculate dangerously.  Mind you, it was high time Forenza got pulled in front of a Board, even if she'll get off.  I can't see her ever getting another command either way.  Too many people in high places have had to take notice of her poor record, and Nagira is one of them.  The
Victoria Regina
broke the bantha's spine and there's no turning back."

"Coming back to Kaleri's desire to see the crew of the
Stingray
dispersed, and by the same token isolated, this wouldn't perchance have anything to do with the fact that my time in space dock was cut in half this morning?"

"Yup."  Holt ground out his cigar.  "That and the fact that Forenza's Board meets the day after you sail.  By the time the high ranking gentlemen and women will wish to hear the witnesses in person, the
Stingray
will be back on active duty, and oh so sorry, cannot be spared, but we have their recorded testimony."

"Machiavellian."

"No, not Kaleri.  An understudy of Machiavelli's understudy, maybe, but if a crippled Lieutenant-Commander figured out so much for himself, definitely not Machiavellian."

"Crippled in body, Ezekiel, not in mind.  You always had a flair for ferreting out deep dark muck.  This has to be a lot more than a case of a lousy crew under an abysmally incompetent commander.  For some reason, I feel I have to warn you to watch yourself.  If there really is more to it than meets the eye, you could be at risk."