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Harrington Freehold,

County Duvalier,

Duchy of Shadow Vale,

Planet Sphinx,

Manticore Binary System,

December 1877 PD.


“Everything packed?”

Honor Harrington turned from the snow-buried landscape outside the window, cupping her hot chocolate in both hands, as her father stepped into the kitchen behind her.

“I think so,” she said. “Which means I haven’t. Got everything, I mean.” She smiled crookedly, and Nimitz bleeked a laugh from where he lay curled in a patch of sunlight on the windowsill. Her father snorted.

“Trust me, the DIs will rectify any shortcomings in your kit in short order. Don’t forget,” he smiled back at her, “in my less reputable days I was one of those DIs. That was before I traded up to the senior service, of course.”

“Oh, of course!”

Honor rolled her eyes. She’d turned seventeen only three T-months ago, but both her parents had supported her from the moment she announced that she wanted a naval career. Not without qualms, she knew, and especially given that she wanted starship command.

Her father had never really wanted to talk about his own combat service, and she understood why. Maybe even better than he realized she did. But whatever he’d wanted, he’d talked about it, anyway. He’d talked about it because she was his daughter, and he loved her, and he wanted her to know as much about—to be as thoroughly prepared as possible for—the sort of career she’d chosen. Neither of her parents could hide how much they worried about where that career might take her, but they’d never tried to dissuade her, either. As her mother had told her father across the breakfast table on the day their twelve-year-old daughter announced that she wanted to command starships, it wasn’t as if Honor didn’t understand what she was getting into. Not with Captain Harrington for a father and Major Benton-Ramirez y Chou (retired) for an uncle.

But her dad did like to rub in the fact that he hadn’t been any namby-pamby midshipman! She knew how proud he was that she’d won one of the fiercely competitive appointments to Saganami Island without a single gram of political pull. But deep inside, he still cherished a certain tribal loyalty to the Royal Marines.

Now her smile faded, and he arched an eyebrow as her expression turned pensive.

“What is it, Bug?” he asked in a gentler tone, and she shrugged.

“It’s just . . . just that I’m so excited, and so happy, and so nervous, and so anxious, and so confused,” she said. “I’ve been working to get here for half my entire life, Daddy! I know half of my life is a lot shorter than half of your life, but it seems pretty darned long to me. And it’s here now, or it will be next month when I report to the Island. And I’m . . . I guess I’m a little afraid.”

“Afraid?” He chuckled softly and crossed to stand behind her and rest his chin on the top of her head as he folded her in his arms. He was tall enough he could do that, despite her own centimeters. “My daughter is afraid of a batch of drill instructors and teachers? I know better than that, Honey!”

“I don’t mean afraid of the Island.” She leaned back against him, treasuring the arms which had always enfolded her in safety. “Oh, I’m a little nervous about that, because I know it’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. That it’s supposed to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But that’s not what I’m afraid of.”

“Then what?”

“It’s just . . . I’ve always wanted command, Daddy. Somehow, I’ve always felt like that’s what I was born to do. But what if it turns out I was wrong? What if it turns out I’m a bad leader? Or that I suck at tactics? A commanding officer needs to win. If she can’t do that, she shouldn’t be commanding in the first place!”

He was silent for a moment. That was one of the things she most admired about him. The way he thought about her questions instead of just throwing off an answer. Then she felt him shrug ever so slightly.

“Bug, I can’t tell you you’ll be a good leader. I’m sure you will, because I’ve watched you growing up, and you’ve always been a leader. But the only one who can really tell you that is you. So my advice is to be patient. One thing any good DI knows is that the cream rises to the top. They’re going to put you under a lot of pressure, Honey. The kind of pressure that finds weak links so they can be strengthened . . . or eased out of the way. And the kind of pressure that shows someone like you that, yes, you’re not only a good leader, you’re a natural one.”

She listened intently, testing not simply his words but his tone, and then, finally, she nodded.

“As for sucking at tactics—!” A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Honor Harrington, I’m totally confident you’ll excel at that.”

“How?” she challenged, turning her head to look up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’re my daughter, and your mother’s, and your Uncle Jacques’s niece. Besides, I’ll have you know you won your very first victory before you could even talk. Heck, before you could walk!”

“What kind of ‘victory’?” she demanded.

“Oh, a great and glorious one!” he told her, and beneath the laughter in his voice, she heard a serious note, as well. “You vanquished an implacable foe, a veritable dragon of animosity and anger, liberating and reuniting two people who’d been separated by an unbridgeable chasm for years.”

“What are you talking about, Daddy?” she pressed around a gurgle of laughter, and he gave her a squeeze.

“Well,” he said, “you know how insistent your mom’s always been on being Manticoran, not Beowulfan. What you may not know, because I don’t think we ever told you, is exactly how your grandmother responded to that.”

“I’ve always known she didn’t think it was . . . a great idea.” The last three words came out in a slightly questioning tone, and her father laughed.

“I think you might call that a bit of an understatement,” he told her. “Quite a bit, in fact. So, freshen that cup of hot chocolate, and let me tell you about your very first victory, young lady.

“It’ll take a while.”


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