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— Twenty-Five —

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Secretary General of the Commonwealth Charles Lauzier, who’d been staring out his office window at the shimmering surface of Lake Geneva while Grand Admiral Sampaio spoke, turned around. A tall, lean, severe-looking seventy-five-year-old whose wavy black hair was slowly turning silver, he studied both naval officers with deep-set eyes on either side of a patrician nose.

“That’s quite a commendable feat by your task force commander, Admiral, recovering most of our people and the ship so quickly without firing a shot. What was her name again?”

“Dunmoore, sir. Captain Siobhan Dunmoore,” Lowell replied, knowing full well Lauzier could recite Sampaio’s report almost verbatim and would have remembered.

Lauzier snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “Of course.”

He rejoined them around the coffee table and sat, elbows on the antique chair’s upholstered arms, hands joined loosely in front of his chin.

“Tell me, Admiral, is this the same Dunmoore who led the raid on the Shrehari home system and escorted me to the armistice talks, the one with whom Kho’sahra Brakal spoke after we signed the documents?”

Sampaio nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Why the blazes is such a capable officer still a mere captain? I seem to recall she wore a commodore’s star ten years ago.”

Lowell glanced at Sampaio as if to say, how about you handle this one, boss?

“Well, sir, after the war, a number of officers were reduced in rank as the Fleet laid up ships and released personnel back to civilian life. Dunmoore, as one of the most junior commodores, reverted to captain since there were no commodore billets available for her. Since then, in the estimation of successive promotion boards, she’s not been deemed sufficiently competitive with other captains and never ranked above the cut-off line.”

Lauzier let out a snort of derision.

“I’ll bet she stepped on a lot of sensitive toes after the armistice, Admiral. A capable officer such as her doesn’t go from hero to zero in such a short time. And having carried off the Athena rescue, she’s still the same competent, hard-charging naval officer I remember. You will please give Captain Dunmoore and her people my personal thanks. What does the Navy call a well done again?”

“A Bravo Zulu, sir.”

“Yes. Thank you. And I would ask that you reconsider the Fleet’s questionable decision to deny her the promotion she so clearly deserves.”

“Unfortunately, sir, an officer can only be considered by a promotion board so many times, and Captain Dunmoore’s last chance was a few weeks ago.” A hint of embarrassment crept into Sampaio’s tone. “She was deemed uncompetitive against her peers again. Her retirement orders will be cut once she turns the Task Force Luckner ships back to their parent formations.”

“I’ve heard a lot of horse shit in my career, Admiral, but I never expected it from a distinguished officer of your caliber.” Lauzier held Sampaio’s gaze with cold eyes. “I know neither the SecGen nor the Defense Secretary may intervene in promotion decisions below four-star rank unless they consider them injurious to the Commonwealth’s security. But I ask you this once, recall the commodore promotion board, find a vacant billet somewhere or create one, and give Dunmoore her due after what she just carried off. I’m sure the regulations give you enough leeway.”

Sampaio remained silent for a few seconds, holding the SecGen’s cold eyes, then inclined his head.

“I will reconvene the promotion board, sir, and it may judge her competitiveness in light of her most recent accomplishments. Unfortunately, I cannot do more without compromising the promotion system’s integrity.”

Lauzier, an old pro at shadow sparring with other influential people, remained silent for just the right amount of time.

“I think that ship sailed long ago, Admiral. Now, onto other matters. How will you tackle the growing criminality spilling over the Protectorate Zone’s boundaries and into the Commonwealth at an alarming rate? We can’t allow liners to be routinely hijacked by political malcontents, rapacious pirates, or even worse, slavers. And on that note, what about the thirty-six missing VIPs? Some of them are personal friends, and their families — all of them among the greatest in the Commonwealth — will demand we do something.”

Lowell raised a hand. “If I may?”

Sampaio made a go-ahead gesture.

“I’m meeting with one of my brightest operations directors, Rear Admiral Kathryn Kowalski, this afternoon to discuss that very question, sir. Kowalski, who served under Dunmoore’s command for three years during the war, came up with the Task Force Luckner idea and made it happen in record time.”

“Then I owe her my gratitude as well.” He turned his eyes on Sampaio. “Please let me know how the promotion board turns out and what this Kowalski suggests to secure the Rim Sector from further troubles. As for making the entire incident and its resolution public, my office will handle it — after the families of the missing are notified. Please make sure no one in the Fleet, especially the personnel of Task Force Luckner, speaks about the matter without authorization.”

“Of course, sir.”

Lauzier stood, imitated by both admirals.

“Thank you for coming. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

With that, Sampaio and Lowell came to attention, bowed their heads in a formal gesture, since neither wore a beret, pivoted on their heels, and left.

Once in the staff car, where no one, not even the driver up front, could overhear, Sampaio let out a sigh of frustration.

“How dare he impugn the integrity of the promotion system?”

Lowell let out a bitter chuckle.

“He’s not wrong, Ben. If Dunmoore hadn’t been blackballed over what she published while serving as a professor at the War College, she’d be sitting in Kathryn Kowalski’s chair right now. The promotion board finding Dunmoore uncompetitive with her peers had nothing to do with her abilities as a commanding officer, a tactician, and a naval thinker. She is smarter and more capable than three-quarters of the commodores currently serving, two-thirds of the rear admirals and half of the vice admirals.”

Sampaio gave the Chief of Naval Operations a stern look.

“I didn’t know you were one of her fans, considering your objection to her appointment as commander of Task Force Luckner.”

“Only idiots never change their mind, Ben. The way she handled this has proved me wrong, and I’m big enough to admit it. Though we never said so, we both thought of her as the ideal sacrificial goat if the mission failed. Well, that goat turned out to be a tiger.” A brief pause. “No, a wolf. The leader of the pack.”

“Ah yes, her encore performance of the wartime tactics that made her feared by the Shrehari if we can believe the after-action report she submitted.”

“Now you’re being totally unfair. The reason she’s still a captain is because of her unflinching commitment to the truth, despite the fact said truth made a lot of us feel lacking in tactical and strategic acumen during the war.”

“Good Lord, Zeb, when you change sides, you don’t do so halfway.”

Zebulon Lowell gave his superior a smug grin.

“My only side is, and has always been, the Navy and its welfare.”

“So, you think I should reconvene the commodore’s promotion board?”

“I think you should follow your sense of fair play and do what’s best for the Navy rather than its querulous and sometimes inadequate flag officers.”

Sampaio let out a grunt.

“Listen to us. The two most powerful military commanders in the known galaxy, and we’re debating the merits of a mere captain whose best before date was long ago.”

“For one thing, the Shrehari Deep Space Fleet commander might dispute your first point, and for another, Dunmoore just proved she’s still as good as she was, meaning we haven’t reached that theoretical best before date yet. Let me listen to Kathryn’s proposal about the damned Zone, and we can discuss Lauzier’s wish that you hold a special promotion board.” Lowell’s grin reappeared. “Which isn’t strictly necessary to get the result he wants, as you might recall. And think of the propaganda value when we reward the hero of the Raid on Shrehari Prime for her latest feat while neatly forgetting the intervening years when she was persona non-grata in the flag officers’ mess.”

“Then we get to enjoy fending off that same flag officers’ mess for admitting a persona who is still non-grata,” Sampaio growled. “Don’t stampede me, Zeb. I’m sure Dunmoore used methods that would see her called on the carpet if she’d used them inside the Commonwealth sphere. I still vividly remember the stunt she pulled on Toboso. It caused quite the uproar around here. Governor Dunmoore, Commonwealth Navy, if you please. She wasn’t popular with the Colonial Office back then.”

“But she is now, according to Jado’s counterintelligence division chief, Holt.”

“Yes, and Holt is Dunmoore’s man. He was her first officer during the Toboso affair and one of her captains when she wore a star.”

Lowell chuckled. “You sure know a lot about Dunmoore, Ben. Should I worry?”

“Worry about the next scheme your wunderkind Kowalski has up her sleeve. We can resume this conversation later.”

**

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“Grab a seat, Kathryn” Lowell nodded at the chairs facing his desk.

“How did it go with the SecGen, sir?”

“As could be expected. He’s happy with the outcome of Task Force Luckner’s operation, sends Dunmoore and her people a Bravo Zulu, worries about the missing thirty-six, and expresses his gratitude to you for coming up with the scheme. That being said, he’d like us to step up operations in the Rim Sector and beyond, with particular emphasis on the Zone, so hijackings don’t happen again, and we suppress the organized crime menace before it gets out of control. And I believe that’s what you’re here to discuss.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Over the following fifteen minutes, Kowalski outlined her plan for a small battle group that wasn’t tied to a specific area or starbase. One whose sole mandate was hunting down and destroying all enemies in what she termed the dirty little wars of peace increasingly bedeviling the Commonwealth’s borders.

“In essence, you’re saying SOCOM isn’t doing the job it should by suppressing hostile activities beyond our sphere.”

“Not in the Zone, sir. There’s too much going on in too big an area for targeted special ops missions, which is their primary focus nowadays.”

“A mix of Q ships and regular units, eh?” Lowell rubbed his chin while he absently gazed at the order of battle Kowalski put up on the primary display. “With resupply, maintenance, rest and recreation, and any other support to be provided by the nearest starbase capable of handling a second battle group.”

“Yes, sir. For operations in the Zone, that would be Starbase 30. And we can shift the entire formation or parts of it to other theaters of operation as needed.”

“SOCOM will resist losing any Q ships, and it would need taking frigates away from regular battle groups, which means the various fleet commanders will make their unhappiness known. But the SecGen wants solutions and won’t be pleased if Navy politics stand in the way. So I’ll speak with the Grand Admiral, and if he agrees, we’ll discuss it at Armed Forces Council.”

“When is AFC’s next scheduled meeting?”

“In two months, I believe.”

“That won’t help the folks taken off Athena nor prevent the doers from striking again.”

Lowell gave her a shrug. “The Grand Admiral will decide whether we convene early.”

“Maybe we can send Dunmoore back into the Zone after Athena is safely docked at Starbase 30.”

He shook his head.

“No. Task Force Luckner disbands once Dunmoore releases Athena into 3rd Fleet’s care. But I’m sure Naval Intelligence will keep working with the Colonial Office to track down the missing passengers, and when they do find them, SOCOM can send a few Q ships on a raiding mission.” Lowell held her eyes. “Was that it?”

Kowalski hesitated. Something in his gaze told her it would be best if she ended the discussion.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your time.”

**

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“How did your presentation to the CNO go?” Holt asked, falling into step beside Kowalski. Both were on their way out of the Fleet HQ main building after another long day.

“He seemed interested but figures it’ll need a blessing from the Armed Forces Council.”

Holt grimaced. “Ouch. AFC is where good ideas go to die before being resurrected as bad ideas.”

She smiled at him as the armored glass doors slid aside to let them out.

“Harsh, but fair. Although Admiral Lowell mentioned the SecGen being rather interested in a solution that could stem the tide of lawlessness spilling over our frontier with the Protectorate Zone. Or words to that effect.”

“Did you raise the question of who might best command such a formation?”

Kowalski shook her head. “Something in Lowell’s eyes told me it wouldn’t be a good idea. And no, I couldn’t say why. Perhaps something from his meeting with Sampaio and Lauzier still rankled.”