Eighth Fleet rested in space, though compared to sea
navies of old it would likely only qualify as a
squadron or more. Still, the numbers of ships were
deceiving. Each one of these starships, the almost
fluid hybrids of Washu's organic designs and Gryphon's
traditional military tech, could unleash incredible
damage, and together the fleet was nearly unstoppable.
'Too bad we're facing someone nearly as powerful,'
Honor Harrington thought, the young woman standing on
the bridge. Not too far in cosmic terms another fleet
waited, a division of ships belonging to Jurai, one of
the most powerful empires in space. Using their unique
wooden vessels and Great Trees they had been an
unbeaten military power for centuries.
"Bleek," Nimitz murmured, the large tree-cat crouched
on her shoulder as around them the crew waited,
tension hanging in the air.
"It's all right, Stinker," Honor murmured, scratching
the 'cat's ears as she tried to breathe out some of
her own tension.
Nearly four standard weeks ago Manticore had sent in
Nagi as a diplomat, with full authority and
instructions to negotiate a halt to hostilities on
their behalf with Jurai. The flamboyant former bounty
hunter had been instructed to stay in regular contact,
but she seemed to have disappeared without a trace.
"Captain on the bridge!" a officer declared and Honor
turned slightly, smiling as a dusky skinned woman left
the lift and strode to her side.
Michelle Henke smiled, stopping at Honor's side.
"Admiral," she nodded, eyes twinkling with subtle
amusement.
Honor felt her cheeks color slightly. Command of a
fleet required an admiral, according to Gryphon
regulations, and to appease the old guard Ryouko had
given Honor a field promotion to admiral before
sending her out here. It was purely a temporary
measure, but Michelle seemed to get great pleasure out
of her lover's elevation.
"We just got in a message from command," Michelle
handed over the datapad with a more serious look,
"according to Jurai Nagi never even arrived."
"Which is a load of garbage," Honor answered softly,
"one of our last messages from her ship the Ken-Ohki
was that she had been contacted by Jurai's orbital
forces."
Michelle nodded, her expression grave. "Ryouko has
formally notified Jurai that unless we hear from our
ambassador in the next day," she said, "we're resuming
military operations against Jurai and her allies."
"We're ready, of course," Honor said, a bit of regret
in her voice.
Michelle looked at her lover thoughtfully, keeping
her voice down as she said, "You hoped for a peaceful
resolution?"
Honor nodded slightly as she said quietly, "I don't
enjoy this, though I do know it's all been necessary."
She smiled wryly, "Though considering Manticore's been
the aggressor so far, I'm probably not one to talk."
"Come on," Michelle led her off the bridge, the two
entering into the captain's ready room. She waved
Honor to a seat even as she called the steward for
coffee for her and cocoa for Honor. "You're in a bit
of a funk," she said gently, "what's wrong?"
"The latest casualty reports came in," Honor finally
sighed.
Michelle winced. It was one of the things that she
most dreaded about this job, the monthly report that
might have old friends or comrades, classmates and
comrades in arms on it. "Was it a friend or...." she
asked softly.
"Alistair McKeon," Honor said softly, "he made
captain shortly after the defense of Gryphon. I was
the one who recommended him for independent
command...."
"I met him," Michelle kept her voice firm, "and I
doubt you were the only one to give him that
recommendation." A faint smile, "He's a good man."
"Yeah," Honor took a drink. "He was out on
anti-piracy patrols when they were hit by a group of
Juraian sponsored privateers."
Michelle fought back a curse. As part of the ongoing
war with Manticore Jurai had sponsored privateers to
raid Manticore's shipping and to force them to divert
military vessels to protect those ships and the
innocents aboard. Making matters worse they had armed
those pirates with modern weapons, increasing the
threat many times.
"McKeon got the shippers away," Honor continued
dully, "but there were more pirates than he had ships
and he couldn't let them chase the merchants."
Michelle could easily imagine the scenario: a smaller
band of ships fighting hard to cripple or kill their
superior enemy, taking whatever damage it took to win.
The tactical realities were brutal, with the loss of
your ship almost a certainty.
"It's not that I don't want to fight," Honor's voice
dropped to a dangerous purr, her eyes glittering,
"it's that I want it too much." She swallowed, "A part
of me wants to attack NOW, burn those bastards right
out of space....."
"Bleek," Nimitz agreed, the soft hiss of the treecat
echoing his mistress' rage.
"Honor!" Michelle put the command snap into her
voice, the sort of thing you learned in officer
training and never forgot. Honor jerked up, surprised
out of her anger and Michelle sighed, "Jurai is
fighting to maintain thousands of years of rule,
Honor."
"That's no excuse," Honor growled.
"No, it's not," Michelle quietly agreed, "but it does
make their desperation more understandable." She took
a breath as she pointed out, "When we thought
Manticore was going to destroy Gryphon we got pretty
desperate, too."
Honor narrowed her eyes, "We never got that
desperate."
"We could have, though," Michelle said firmly. She
looked out the window at the ships floating there in
space, "The ships we're facing our mostly manned by
people like you and I, fighting for their king and
country."
"So will anyone really get punished for any of this?"
Honor asked.
"When we win," Michelle put the focus on the first
word, "I know Ryouko won't let them get away with what
they've done." She gave Honor a smile, reaching out to
put her hand on hers, "Just don't lose your
perspective, love."
"Thanks," Honor smiled back, her words echoed by a
comforting sound from Nimitz.. It was interesting
seeing Honor consciously readying herself to return to
duty. It was almost as if she was donning some
invisible captain's armor, readying herself for the
coming battle.
"Ready," Michelle finished her coffee, rising to
offer her hand.
Honor took it, rising gracefully, "Always."
The bridge was as busy as ever, status reports and
communications from various ships in the fleet,
internal matters to deal with and so on. Michelle
moved from station to station, talking with her crew
and checking the boards, her presence both gentle and
commanding.
'Michelle really is a natural captain,' Honor thought
admiringly, feeling oddly comforted by her talk with
the other woman. She still felt the anger and grief,
of course, but at least now she thought she could
manage it well enough.
"Bleek," Nimitz teased, using one of his arms to tug
a lock of her hair gently.
"Captain Henke," the communication's officer had a
urgency in it that stilled all conversation across the
busy bridge.
"Yes?" Michelle asked calmly.
"A message from Jurai command, text only," Mr.
Webster reported. He took a shaky breath and said,
"The Empire of Jurai formally announces the resumption
of hostilities with the Republic of Manticore."
"Battlestations," Michelle ordered crisply, alarms
going off across the ship.
"Mr. Webster, forward a copy of that to all squadron
commanders," Honor commanded swiftly, "status is red!
I want all our ships in a defensive formation five
minutes ago."
"Jurai vessels are moving," tactical declared,
"standard attack pattern."
"Wait till we close the range before firing,"
Michelle ordered crisply, "put the latest tactical
imagery on the main viewer."
Honor looked up, watching the icons of her band of
ships moving closer to the red marked Juraian ships,
and was struck by a single thought. 'This really is
it,' she mused, 'one way or the other, this is the
beginning of the end.'
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