The Iron Admiral: Deception (12 page)

any given time.

A President Class shuttle waited for them, the pilots already in the cockpit, engines engaged. Four armed troopers in body armor stood guard. They acknowledged the grand admiral briefly but stayed at their posts.

Saahren motioned for Allysha to board before him. “My seat is the first one on the right,” he said as she passed him. “Sit in the first seat on the left.”

Whatever you say, Sir. His words echoed in her mind. Todd? No. He wouldn’t be so silly. Would he?

He was engaged to be married. She was years older than him.

She dropped into the seat beside Saahren’s and sat quietly as the seat harness deployed to fit snugly over her shoulders and legs. The sound of the engines changed; the ship lifted and slipped between the gray walls of the hangar bay into clear air, affording a brief, panoramic view of the city before it accelerated through the clouds, heading for space.

The high acceleration launch out of Malmos’s gravity well only took a few minutes; from there, a half hour glide would take the shuttle toArcuturus’s docking bay. Saahren immediately busied himself with some reports while Allysha sat with eyes closed, her head too full of thoughts to take advantage of the view as Melchior receded below.

What about Todd? The shared meals after work, the unarmed combat practices, the way his hand had trembled a little when he first put it on her bare skin at the ball. She’d thought he’d just been a bit nervous. Saahren was right as usual, damn him. How had she been so blind?

She glanced across the aisle at him, absorbed in his reports, hand absently scratching at the scar on his cheekbone. And he, he had used the ball to virtually make an announcement.She is mine. Well, she wasn’t.

With a little shake of her head, she turned to the screen in front of her and adjusted the view so that she could watch the shuttle’s approach to the battle cruiser, drifting in high orbit around the planet. As they approached, the string of lights along the ship’s side resolved into a line of air locks and the grand admiral’s shuttle was not the only transport heading that way.

“Oh. Looks like we’re in a queue,’ she remarked half to herself.

Saahren glanced up from his report and gave a short shake of his head. “Not for me.”

Allysha jerked a lip. No, not for him. The larger transports were in a holding vector, waiting while this shuttle passed. She even noticed another President Class shuttle holding position. Saahren’s ship changed

neither course nor speed as it approached the battle cruiser, sweeping past the waiting ships.

“So quite a few people had leave on Malmos?” she asked.

“Not many, no. We weren’t here long enough. There’ll be a few assignment rotations, though. Like your team. They’ll be on one of the larger transports. And there is always some re-provisioning.”

The shuttle slowed, angled itself to match the battle cruiser’s orientation, then slipped between grey walls. The bay hatch closed behind the ship as it settled gently to the deck. Allysha watched the lights on the environment censors turn from red to green as the bay aired up. Flashing green.

“You may disembark when ready,” the IS said.

Saahren motioned for her to precede him down the ramp.

The senior officer waiting for Saahren came to attention when the grand admiral appeared. His eyes had widened for just a moment when he saw her but he resumed that closed military expression and saluted as soon as Saahren set foot on the deck.

“Wait,” Saahren tossed the word over his shoulder at her.

He was soon in discussion with the deck officer, so Allysha moved a few paces away and gazed around at ordered activity. The cavernous hangar was busy with people and ships, the background hum of life support overlaid with the whine of engines, the dense buzz of conversation, the tramp of feet. To the right, one of the larger transports still disgorged its passengers, officers and crew in working uniform. He said her team would be coming up in something like that. Maybe they were over there. She scanned the faces, looking for anyone she knew. Many interested glances were directed at the grand admiral’s shuttle, but she expected that would always be the case. Ordinary fleeters wouldn’t get to see him too often, she wouldn’t think. A glimpse of Grand Admiral Saahren would merit a mention in a comm home.

“Allysha!”

Anna waved to her from the other side of the docking bay, her voice just audible over the background din. Allysha grinned and waved back. Her team stood together in a group with a commander she didn’t know. They must have been on that transport. The officer frowned and spoke to Anna, clearly not impressed.

“And quite right too.” Saahren appeared beside her, his voice laced with irritation.

She curled her lip at him. Typical military stuffiness.

“This is a warship, not a school playground. They should know better. And you shouldn’t condone that behavior. Now then,” he continued in a different tone, “you’ll join your team for the moment, meet SenComm Ernshaw and see where you’ll be working. You’ll attend the SO mess for dinner. SenComm Ernshaw will show you where to go.”

Her hackles rose. Oh, no. That wasn’t going to happen. She waved her arm backwards over her shoulder to where the others waited for her. “You said I could mess with my team.”

Saahren frowned. “I said you’d attend the SO mess weekly. What made you imagine it would not be the first night? They’ll want to know why you’re here.”

“You can tell them.” She jabbed her finger at his chest. “I don’t need to be there.”

He caught her hand in his fist, none too gently, and thrust it away. “When will you learn to accept an instruction without argument?” He’d raised his voice sufficiently to attract attention.

She took a step closer to him. This wasn’t in her contract and she wasn’t going to put up with it. “It’s not in my nature and that’s not what you pay me to do. I’m not one of your precious star fleet and you can’t order me around.”

His face hardened. “You will do as you are told.” He enunciated each word very clearly, his voice as soft and deadly as falling snow.

A tremor shivered through her nerves. His eyes were black and cold just as they’d been at Lake Sylmander. This was the scary side of him.

“Oh, all right. Have it your own way.” It wasn’t exactly graceful but it was the best she could do. She looked away at something to her right. Anything.

“Look at me.”

Her head moved before her brain had time to complain; without hesitation, like a puppet on a string.

“Do not take that attitude with me in public, ever again. Do you understand?” His eyes held hers. Not the pits of hell. He wasn’t angry, not even scary; he was just the grand admiral. Her heart-beat returned to normal.

He frowned and sighed and the military mask dropped away. “Allysha, this is a warship. Warships can’t work without discipline. And that includes you.” He hesitated, his expression troubled. “Please, don’t try to take advantage of your civilian status. I will not—I cannot—permit it. This is not like working with your team at the Fleet complex. Here, if somebody questions an order, somebody might die.”

“Is anybody going to die if I don’t go to the SO mess this evening?”

“Just remember that everybody who just got off that transport is looking at us. I would not tolerate a senior admiral jabbing a finger at me and challenging me as you did.”

Challenge him? She’d simply asked for some clarification. Oh, this was such a pain. “Okay.”

He nodded, once. “Senior Commander Ernshaw is waiting for you. He is the officer commanding the comms and intel section to which you are assigned. I’ll expect you to be ready to attend the SOM at twenty-two ninety-five. Wear a dress.”

A dress? “I didn’t bring a dress. You didn’t tell me I’d need a dress.”

“You’ll find one in your quarters. Now go.” He gestured across the hangar. “I’ll see you later.”

She went. He’d flicked her off, dismissed like a naughty girl. Huh. A dress. One dress. Surely not the one she’d danced in all night. If it wasn’t, who’d picked the replacement? Probably Irina; she hoped Irina, in which case it should be acceptable. And of course it hadn’t even occurred to him to mention she’d need a dress. Men were idiots.

****

He couldn’t accept her poking a finger at him like that. Surely she’d realize.

Admiral Valperez and Captain Pedder, just disembarked from the other shuttle, joined him. “So the beautiful Miss Marten will be joining us for a time?” Valperez said.

Saahren tore his gaze away and walked toward the transit. “Yes. On the job training for her team. And I’d like her to check our logistics systems one more time. Just to be certain we aren’t inadvertently providing our enemies with weapons.”

Pedder raised his eyebrows. “I thought we’d been declared clean. But… I suppose you never know; a different point of view may find something.”

“If anyone can, she can. And if she can’t, I’ll accept that,” Saahren replied.

If he was honest with himself he didn’t expect her to find anything. No, more than that; he didn’twant her to find anything. “Her team will get some real experience on a warship but she’ll work on the other problem behind the scenes.”

A twinkle lurked in Valperez’s eyes. “Is there a reason you two arrived together?”

Saahren shot him a glance. “Not what you might think.”

With these two and a few other senior officers, the fires of speculation had started after Tisyphor. They probably had a wager going in the mess. He wished he could have won the bet for somebody.

“Ah.” Valperez nodded. “So this last performance wasn’t a lover’s spat?”

He squirmed. “It was unseemly public behavior. I simply made the point that on a warship, I expect her to obey orders.”

The transit doors open and he stepped inside, the other two at his heels.

Valperez chuckled. “Well, she is a civilian.” He pressed the buttons for levels seven and eight. “She didn’t look very happy. But I expect she’ll forgive you. Eventually.”

Saahren stared at him, at the knowing look under a quirked eyebrow. Valperez knew about women.

He’d probably messed things up. Again.

Well, that was a great start. A public row with the grand admiral. She didn’t miss the covert glances, heads bent together as she passed. A bit more to gossip about.

The commander who’d spoken to Anna saluted as she approached. Her team was gone. “Miss Marten, I am Senior Commander Ernshaw, in charge of communications and intelligence on this ship. You’ll ostensibly be part of my section and your people will report to me.”

“Thank you, SenComm.” Allysha sized him up as they exchanged pleasantries. As usual with Confederacy people, she couldn’t pick his age but laughter lines surrounded intelligent brown eyes. “I’m not Fleet, so you don’t need to salute me. And what do you mean ‘ostensibly’? Who do I report to?”

Ernshaw’s grin brightened his face. “I think there’s only one person you report to, ma’am.”

She snorted. “Who needs God when you’ve got the grand admiral?”

He swallowed a grin. “One of my officers is showing your people to their quarters and then he’ll bring them to you. If you’ll come this way, I’ll show you your training room.” He led the way to the transit foyer, talking as he walked. “I’ve heard a little about your work with the systems at Head Quarters. I’m very pleased to have you with us. I hope you’ll share your expertise with more than just these five officers.”

“Sure. We can set up some sessions with your technical staff if you’d like. In fact, my officers can help conduct the training.”

“Excellent. I’ll have my people set up a roster.”

A car arrived, pinging softly as the doors slid apart. He stepped inside and pressed a button. Numbers whirled past in the display as the car rose. Allysha felt slight pressure as the motion changed to horizontal at level ten and again as it slowed to a halt and the doors opened. From the foyer they walked along a corridor lined with doors Every ten meters or so, the numerals 10-D were painted in large letters on both

walls and on the floor and ceiling, red on one side of the corridor, green on the other, black on the ceiling, white on the floor.

“What are the numbers?”

“The section ID, in case of system failures. The red numbers are to port, green to starboard and black and white for top and bottom. If you keep the green on your right, you’re heading for the bow and you’ll know where the rest of the ship is even if the artificial gravity fails.”

He stopped outside a room marked thirty-five and slid a card into a slot in the door. “This is room 10-D35. That’s the tenth level on the port side. C and D are to port and A and B are starboard. Get off the transit at section 10-D. The odd door numbers are also to port.” He gestured for her to enter.

The small conference room was set up with similar workstations to the ones they used at Fleet HQ on Malmos, only with less space and no windows. Allysha looked around a clean and neat room, the furniture a little worn. The barely-heard rumble of the ship’s life support systems would soon disappear into her subconscious. “It’s functional and I can’t ask for anything else. I expect my passwords and access levels will be unchanged?” She crossed to one of the terminals and checked.

“That’s correct, ma’am.” He watched with undisguised interest as she made her way through the system with practiced ease. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” With a nod, he turned and left.

The team showed up a few minutes later, excited at the prospect before them.

“Hey, ‘Lysha. What’s the story?” Todd pulled out one of the chairs and placed it opposite her as she swung away from the terminal. The others followed suit until they sat in a cramped circle.

“What were you told?” She watched their faces carefully.

Todd lifted his shoulders. “Not much. Just that we were to meet at the space port for a trip toArcturus .”

They all looked expectant. They were curious about this assignment, obviously, but there was an undercurrent of something else.