35

THERE WAS A NEAR TOTAL silence aboard the Vimy Ridge. It had been that way since the call had come in from Mahoney.

Anna Cortez had been executed. No last-minute reprieve, no commuting of the sentence in acknowledgement of her service, or even on humanitarian grounds. To a one, the crew had clenched their teeth as they overheard Mahoney explaining it all to Radko. Khaifa's attempt to bring some common sense to the situation. Cortez's speech. The firing squad.

And they had all felt the surge of anger when he'd said that after it was done, they'd simply blown her body out of the airlock.

They hadn't even kept her dogtags for any surviving family member.

To the crew of the Vimy Ridge, it was a miracle Radko hadn't ordered them right then and there to head back to Thor's Hammer, full speed, weapons free.

To Radko himself it was equally surprising.

His hands ached from having been clenched in tight fists and his vision kept blurring with tears that steadfastly refused to fall in the face of his incredible, burning anger.

He stood on the upper level of the command deck, staring through the observation dome. He'd had a holographic overlay pinpoint the position of Thor's Hammer and he stared out through the stars at the blinking orange triangle that represented the station.

Perched on the railing behind him, heedless of the drop should she lose her balance, was Kestrel Cagliari. Though Cagliari hadn't been present when the news had first come through that Cortez had been tried and convicted, it hadn't taken long for word to spread through the ship and by the time Mahoney was calling back, Cagliari had already been on the bridge, hanging around the background. She had stayed with him the whole time, saying nothing, just being an unobtrusive, supportive presence.

Though he wasn't prepared to do so at that moment, Radko would have to remember to thank her for it later. As much as his exploits were portrayed as 'Radko did this' or 'Radko did that,' he would have been nowhere and accomplished nothing without his friends.

His friends.

The word caught him harder than usual.

He'd told Owens that he needed his friends and that was truer now than ever. But his other statement to Owens was also truer now than ever: he was running out of friends.

"Thank you," he said quietly, turning toward Cagliari. She was still wearing her flightsuit.

Smiling slightly, the pilot nodded and ran a hand through her short blue hair.

"You'll be okay," she said.

"Think so?"

"Know so."

Hopping off the rail, she stepped up beside him, taking a look at the pulsating triangle.

"You'll be okay because you need to be okay," she said. "Not because you're actually okay, but because if you're not okay, you can't do this. And if you don't do this, you think no one else will."

She looked up at him with a lopsided grin.

"How am I doing?"

"Pretty spot-on," he said, half-heartedly returning the smile.

Smile fading, Cagliari put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know this sucks. I know it. We've all lost people we care about, but not this way—not to politics," she said. "My father used to have a saying, it was probably his favourite saying. Used it constantly, especially when his know-it-all daughter was being more rebellious than usual. He said you can't force people to change, you can only lead them to finding a better way."

She let her hand drop and looked back out toward Thor's Hammer, before turning toward and nodding to the Venn Shakara.

"Cortez was a great person and she believed in what you're doing. I'm really, really sorry that she's gone—I'm not just saying that, I mean it—but we need to make sure she died for something worthwhile."

"I know," he said, sighing. "You can't fight a war and expect not to lose anyone."

"Doesn't make it any easier when it happens."

"No, it doesn't."

They both fell silent, hearing someone coming up the ladder. Seeing it was el Bahari, Cagliari offered Radko a small smile.

"I'll be snuggling my fighters if you need me," she said, before hurrying down the ladder and off the command deck.

El Bahari watched her go before turning to Radko.

"I don't think she likes me," she said, arching a brow.

"You're an acquired taste."

The brow arched even further.

"I can't argue that," she said. "Perhaps the one thing you and I actually have in common?"

Before he could respond, she held up a hand.

"Our argument earlier, Commander. I was out of line and my criticism of your decisions became... somewhat personal in nature. No, not somewhat—they were precisely personal in nature."

Pausing, she sighed and Radko took that to mean she wasn't finished.

He was correct.

"I stand by my statement about disagreeing with your methods. But I am also well aware of the fact that I am a bitch, and while I am usually able to maintain it at ice-queen levels—yes, I know what the crew calls me—you have a singular way of getting under my skin."

Though he tried to stop it, Radko started laughing, and el Bahari looked equal parts annoyed and perplexed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sorry, I just don’t think I've ever heard such a blunt self-evaluation. For the record, you're not a bitch."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Why are we arguing this?"

"Look, Amira... sorry, I know you hate it when I call you that. Look, Commander, this isn't my first rodeo. I've served in the Commonwealth Navy since I was a teenager and I served with a great number of women. I went through the officer's program with a great number of women, several of whom became close friends. None of whom were ever given command of ship. No matter what kind of shiny veneer we like to put on our society, I saw first-hand how much harder those women had to work to be seen as being at the same level as those of us with testicles. Stop me if I'm wrong."

She said nothing, just crossing her arms.

"These women, they had to be driven to succeed. They had to prove they were more capable than their male classmates in order to been seen as being equal. So many of them—if they intended to climb the ranks—had to push aside things like having a love life. They would shoot down anyone who tried to hit on them, and so were branded bitches."

He paused, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't even know where the hell I was going with this story."

"I feel like you were trying to tell me I'm not a bitch."

"Or maybe I was trying to tell you that sometimes people take things they fear—strong, capable, independent women, for example—and try to diminish them by attaching insulting names to them."

"That may be a fair assessment. However, my apology stands. I feel I was out of line with some of my comments."

"Apology accepted."

"And...," she said, then paused, looking at her boots, then down in the command deck, then, finally, at the pulsating triangle indicating the position of Thor's Hammer. "No matter how different my views and yours may be, what Bianca Upshaw and her people did to your friend was reprehensible."

"Thank you. I-"

"If they'd had any courage at all," she said, turning to look him in the eye. "They'd have come after you directly."

"If they'd had any courage at all, Commander, they'd be right here with us, preparing to strike the ril-galas. Instead they play their political games and engage in continual marathons of verbal masturbation while the Earth burns."

"Do you think that everyone who disagrees with you is a coward?"

"No. People disagree with me all the time. I have no issue with it—we've already had that discussion. We can't sit on our hands any longer and still survive this war. Not wanting to start a war isn't cowardice, it's admirable. Refusing to fight a war you're already in isn't just cowardice, it is certain death. Someone has to break this cycle and stand up and lead."

"And it has to be you, of course," she said sharply.

"Again, we've had this conversation already," he snapped. "No, it doesn't have to be me, except apparently it does. Who else do you see standing up to take the lead? Mahoney? I like him a lot, but he's been commanding a desk for over a decade. Can you name anyone—anyone—in the extant hierarchy of the Commonwealth Navy who you see as someone who would be willing and able to take the risk that I'm taking? To stand up and say if no one else is going to fight this war, I fucking will?"

As he stared expectantly into the Lieutenant Commander's eyes, her jaw muscles twitched several times and she clenched her teeth. Only a few moments had passed, but Radko could see something shift behind her eyes and knew before she spoke what her answer was going to be.

"No," she said, then paused for a long moment before continuing—grudgingly, it seemed. "And even if there was someone else, they wouldn't be Finn Radko."

He tried not to notice the slight trace of derision when she said his name.

"No," continued el Bahari. "You are uniquely positioned to make this happen. Blind loyalty from your crew, friends in positions of power with our traditional enemies. One could imagine that you wouldn't be satisfied with stopping after the Hornet's Nest. With the little fleet you're assembling, taking Thor's Hammer would be a realistic possibility."

Much to his surprise, Radko found the statement more amusing than offensive, and he chuckled.

"El Bahari, I promise you I have no desire to install myself or anyone else as dictator."

"And yet you threatened to come after Upshaw."

"I might," he said lightly. "But if I do, it will have nothing to do with any desire on my part to rule."

His XO looked thoroughly unconvinced.

"You know what I want?" he asked, not waiting for her to attempt an answer. "I want Sigurdsson back safe. I want to hold a wake for Cortez. I want Earth free of ril-galas. I want to retire somewhere quiet, where I can watch a sunset and sip a cup of tea without getting fucking shot at. I want to stop living in a galaxy where humanity has become a passive participant, essentially waiting for extinction rather than fighting to live. I want to go to Thor's Hammer and look some of those kids in the eye without thinking that I have no idea if any of them have a future at all, let alone a future worth living for. I want to be able to say yes the next time a ten-year-old asks me if I think the ril-galas will be gone before she's my age—and not feel like I'm lying."

"Then I hope for everyone's sake that this plan succeeds," said el Bahari.

Then she turned on her heel and headed down the ladder to the command deck. Radko watched her for a moment as she went directly to the sand table to review some data. It was only a moment later that Owens came up.

"Everything okay with you and el Bahari?"

"How would I tell?"

"Point taken. Is she going to cause problems?"

"Not really," said Radko, shaking his head. "Her issue is more with me, personally, than with what we're trying to do."

Owens nodded, then consulted his tablet.

"Ven Shakara reports repairs are complete. They can be ready to leave whenever we are."

Nodding, Radko rapped his knuckles on the railing.

"Then let's get underway."

––––––––

IT TOOK LONGER THAN usual for her connection to Thor's Hammer to go through. One of her connections. It occurred to el Bahari that she might have been running more covert communications signals than Commonwealth Intelligence. While she didn't particularly like the secrecy, the figurative skulking in shadows, she had convinced herself of its necessity.

And now, at least, she knew where Radko's rendezvous would be.

Carncastle Gate was an immense gas giant just inside Commonwealth space. Once expected to be both the location of major mining operations and a point from which the Commonwealth could expand outward—hence the "Gate" portion of its name—the system had been entirely abandoned by civilized life. Recently it had served as a haven for several groups of pirates, including Captain Singh's group when away from their main base of operations on Casandra Hajek—a habitable moon named for the explorer who had discovered it and died there.

She had to admit that Carncastle Gate was a near-perfect staging ground for Radko's assault on the Hornet's Nest. Positioned as it was, at the edge of Commonwealth space, it was less than a day's journey from Soviet space and directly across no man's land from icaran space. But more than that, it provided an almost direct approach to the Sol system while also using sensor-dulling natural phenomena like the Oort cloud and Kuiper belt to their fullest. Despite her feelings toward Radko, el Bahari had to admit that the plan was not just tactically sound, it was tactically brilliant. The assault would be timed so that the approach of the assault fleet—Joint Task Force One, as Radko called it—would put them behind the sun. By the time the Hornet's Nest saw them coming, JTF1 would be on their doorstep.

"Yes, what is it?"

El Bahari almost jumped as the voice of Upshaw came through her tablet.

"Bianca. I understand congratulations are in order," she said. "Deputy Prime Minister?"

"Yes. Do you have information for me?"

"I do, but first I need to know what's going on with Vossek. One of Radko's friends was with those pirates he went after—I'm concerned if we don't hear from them soon, Radko might drop this rendezvous and go looking for her."

Upshaw snorted.

"Let him. We've already proven to him-"

"If he goes looking for Sigurdsson rather than proceeding with the rendezvous, you will have absolutely no evidence to use against him."

There was dead silence, as she expected there to be.

"I'm not an idiot, Bianca. I understood your plan as soon as you charged the young Lieutenant."

Another lengthy silence.

"Edward pursued the Azrael's Tear into the Udukiin Priex," said Upshaw finally, grudgingly. "The pirates launched an icaran shuttle, which the Adirondack shot down—though Vossek reports he did see several icaran life pods make planetfall on the Shattered World."

El Bahari frowned to herself, running a finger over her lips. Why would the pirates head to the Priex? It made little sense given the open hostility shown by the udukiin to anyone entering their borders. She said as much to Upshaw.

"One of the items stolen from us," said the newly-minted Deputy PM. "Had at one time belonged to the udukiin."

"A weapon, I assume?"

"Not yet, but it would have been."

Eyes narrowing, a few items clicked into place for el Bahari.

Whatever this item was, Sigurdsson was returning it. Which meant it was important.

"The Adirondack shot down the icaran shuttle," she said slowly. "What of the Azrael's Tear?"

"Escaped. Vossek had to break off pursuit—the udukiin presence became... difficult."

"Were they attacking the Tear as well?"

She could almost hear Upshaw frown at the question. It likely hadn't occurred to her to ask and she would be quickly re-reading Vossek's report to find out.

"Apparently not," she said finally. "Why does that matter? Pirates are lawless, they probably hand over stolen materiel to the udukiin all the time."

The udukiin had always been self-sufficient, thought el Bahari. They didn't need pirates any more than they needed trade agreements. If the udukiin didn't attack the Azrael's Tear, it was either because their visit was pre-planned—which was unlikely, given that Radko seemed to have no idea where they were—or the udukiin somehow knew they were returning an item of great value to...

Straightening her back, she stared at the wall for a moment, then at her tablet.

"Yes, that must be it," she said. "Where is Vossek now?"

"Irrelevant. I've given you the information you needed, now what do you have for me?"

"The location of the rendezvous."

"Let's have it."

The woman sounded positively predatory.

"You'll need to send your most loyal ships," said el Bahari. "Firepower aside, Radko has surrounded himself with true believers. Surrender will not come easy—if it comes at all. Vossek should lead with the Adirondack. If that's to be our flagship, it should start out that way."

"Of course," said Upshaw, sharply. "And Prager will be there in the Lone Star."

"You'll need more. Radko is expecting to have four capitol ships—I'd recommend the Monument Valley, the Galveston and the Marcus Keyes at the very least. A pair of missile boats couldn’t hurt either."

"Yes, yes, I agree. The location?"

"The pirate base at Casandra Hajek."