HMSS Hephaestus
Manticore Planetary Orbit
Manticore Binary System
April 9, 1906 PD
“—and then she said she’d shoot North Hollow, too!”
“And about goddamn time! Son of a bitch’s had it coming for way too long, if you ask me!”
Brandy Bolgeo looked up from her work screen, eyebrows raised.
“Senior Chief Stúdlin,” she said.
The dark-haired senior chief looked up quickly.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“While I can’t really quibble with your characterization, we’re on the clock, Senior Chief,” she pointed out with a moderate frown.
“Yes, Ma’am, and I didn’t—”
“I said I couldn’t quibble with your characterization, Martin.” Brandy’s frown segued into a tart smile. “Trust me, I don’t. But we are sort of supposed to be concentrating on the job at the moment. True?”
“True, Ma’am,” Stúdlin agreed, and glanced back at the second-class petty officer beside him. “We’ll pick this up later, Josephine. Trust me!”
“Sure, Senior Chief,” the PO said and gave Brandy a semi-apologetic smile of her own before she turned back to the display linked to the remote currently crawling through the destroyer Incorruptible’s fusion plant.
Brandy watched her for a moment, then turned back to her own display. As she’d said to Stúdlin, she couldn’t fault a single thing the power systems noncom had said. And unlike quite a few people she’d encountered, including some in uniform, who damned well should’ve known better, she doubted neither the accuracy of Lady Harrington’s accusations nor the inevitability of the consequences for North Hollow.
Her mouth twitched with distaste as her memory replayed North Hollow’s response to Lady Harrington’s dueling ground statement. He’d looked so . . . so civilized. And his voice had simply oozed sympathy for Lady Harrington.
“I’m certainly troubled by it,” he’d said in response to a direct question when he appeared on Chris Scarborough’s Inside Sources podcast. His father had been a frequent guest on the program, and the new earl had appeared on it even more regularly, as the political debacle over the declaration of war stretched out interminably. He obviously had what people still called “good chemistry” with the program’s host, and it had been on display that day.
“I’m sure anyone would be, My Lord,” Scarborough had said then, nodding sadly. “I mean, it’s such an outrageous thing for a peer of the realm, even one who hasn’t yet bothered to take her seat in the House, to throw at another on a broadcast she had to know would be seen by almost everyone in the Star Kingdom, eventually.”
“Be fair, Chris,” North Hollow had said. “Lady Harrington and I have a long history, and I don’t want to get into all of the patently absurd things she’s said about me upon occasion. There’s no point. But having said that, anyone with a gram of human compassion has to sympathize with the pain she must be feeling at this moment. I’ve never approved of the practice of dueling. It’s a relic of barbarism, frankly. There may be times when it’s an appropriate response, given certain values for the adjective ‘appropriate,’ to personal insult or injury, but it’s inherently vulnerable to abuse. And I think it’s abundantly clear that Denver Summervale—who, I remind you, was cashiered by the Royal Marines for theft and accepting bribes—is—or, was, at any rate—a perfect example of the weaknesses of the system. No one can condone Captain Tankersley’s physical assault on a chance-met stranger in a bar, regardless of anything Summervale might have said to him. By the same token, it’s clear the Captain was provoked—deeply provoked—by Summervale. And it’s also abundantly clear that, whatever his motives, Summervale deliberately killed Captain Tankersley after the Captain had fired without killing or even seriously wounding his opponent.
“How could a woman who loved a man as Lady Harrington clearly loved Captain Tankersley not see that final, deliberate, carefully aimed shot as anything but an act of thinly disguised murder? And, given what Summervale’s rumored to have said to the Captain in their confrontation, how could Lady Harrington not believe that, for whatever reason, Summervale had deliberately targeted both of them? Obviously, she’s dealt with Summervale himself, but equally clearly, Summervale’s death can never assuage the depth of her pain, her loss. Grief for our loved ones doesn’t just . . . go away, Chris! And if she genuinely believes—as I’m certain she does—that Summervale was, indeed, the paid killer, the hired duelist, she accused him of being, it’s inevitable that she should proclaim, and quite probably honestly believe, that I must have been the one who hired him.”
The earl had shaken his head, his expression sad.
“I’m sure I hardly need to say this, but she’s mistaken. And while I deeply sympathize with her loss, her pain, I have no intention of continuing the senseless cycle of violence which has already claimed Captain Tankersley’s—and, yes, Denver Summervale’s—lives.”
“I’m not certain I could be as sympathetic with her, in your place, my Lord,” Scarborough said somberly.
“Oh, it’s not always easy for me, either!” North Hollow acknowledged wryly. “It’s not pleasant being accused of hiring a murderer, but, then again, I’ve become unhappily accustomed to being accused of things. Indeed, my attorneys have suggested to me that it would not be inappropriate to sue Lady Harrington over the clearly libelous allegations she’s made against me, and a part of me is strongly tempted to do just that. But, as I say, I do understand why she might genuinely feel that way, and I’ve developed an aversion to judicial gladiatorial combat. It didn’t”—he allowed himself a wintry smile—“work out very well for me the last time. And dragging this into the courts, rather than simply allowing it to die a natural death in the fullness of time, could serve neither me, the Countess, nor our current hyper-partisan political divides.”
“I must say that I wish certain other participants in those ‘hyper-partisan’ divisions would show equal restraint, My Lord. But, that said, I also wanted to ask you for your opinion of Countess New Kiev’s motion to increase funding for the Star Kingdom’s gold star orphanages. I realize some of her critics are claiming it’s simply a way to divert attention from the Liberal Party’s continuing opposition to actually fighting the war, but I wondered if you—”
Brandy had wanted to vomit as she’d listened to North Hollow playing the role of responsible statesman. She known he was lying, of course; his lips had been moving. And she was privately sure her father was right about the real reason he wasn’t suing. The last thing North Hollow could risk was the possibility that Lady Harrington had actual proof of her allegations!
But so far, at least, he’d managed to run between the raindrops, to at least some extent. His political allies’ covering fire, which consisted of far less “sympathetic” denunciations of Lady Harrington as little more than a common murderess who had once again demonstrated her propensity for violence and her complete lack of self-control, helped in that regard. The newsies like Scarborough, who’d chosen to adopt the same “in sorrow, not in anger” attitude as North Hollow were subtler and even more damaging to her, though. And there was a segment of public opinion which found it impossible to believe any peer of the realm could have stooped to murder. Or, at least, that he could have done it without being caught at it. After all, if Lady Harrington had actual proof, the proper thing for her to do was to hand it to the Crown Prosecutors, not seek some sort of crazed vigilante justice of her own!
So as long as he continued to avoid her . . .
Brandy gave herself a shake.
You just whacked Stúdlin for spending duty time on this, she reminded herself. Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if you didn’t spend duty time wool-gathering on it, either, don’t you think?
She snorted and tapped her display for an update.
It felt good to be back in the saddle, so to speak, although she did wish Timberwolf would get herself home! In the meantime, the Navy had assigned her to TDY aboard Hephaestus once she’d completed her month of survivor’s leave, and she had to admit that what they were doing made sense. The next best thing to a year had passed since she’d been wounded, and she’d needed this time to ease back into active duty. And given that Timberwolf was slated for overhaul as soon as she could return to the Manticore System, it really hadn’t made sense to send an officer who needed some refresher time clear out to Grendelsbane to take over her engineering department. So, Hephaestus had assigned her to one of the enormous space station’s yard modules, where she could spend her time overseeing repairs and standard servicing requirements on destroyers and light cruisers almost as old as Timberwolf.
She was actually a bit surprised by the way her current duties helped hold her impatience at bay. She needed the refresher time anyway, and getting her hand in on older systems could only be beneficial when it was time to take over her new slot.
Which, she reflected cheerfully, wasn’t the same thing as not being impatient at all!