War Of Honor

"In that case," he said calmly, "I would suggest that we adjourn and get started."

Chapter Thirty One

"How well did we time it, My Lady?" Admiral Alfredo Yu asked. He and Rafe Cardones had arrived in Honor's day cabin together, and now the slender, one-time Peep gri

"Mercedes and I were just finishing dessert, actually," Honor told him with an answering smile. She glanced at Brigham, almond eyes twinkling wickedly, and Nimitz groomed his whiskers cheerfully at the other woman from her shoulder.

"And did our arrival come as a pleasant surprise?" Yu asked as he also turned to the chief of staff . . . who'd commanded a division of SD(P)s in the Protector's Own before accepting her position on Honor's staff.

"After we got over the collective heart failure you and Her Grace managed to inflict on all of us," Brigham replied wryly, and shook her head. "I can't believe that neither of you even told me this was coming!"

"Well, it wouldn't exactly have been fair to tell you if I didn't tell anyone else on the staff, now would it?" Honor asked, and chuckled at the very old-fashioned look Brigham bestowed upon her.

"Was there a particular reason why you didn't tell the entire staff?" the older woman asked after a moment, and Honor shrugged.

"I suppose not, really," she conceded. "But since none of Alfredo's people knew they were headed out here when they first sailed, it just seemed that it would be . . . I don't know, inappropriate, perhaps, to tell you what they didn't know. Besides," her crooked smile turned impish, "Alfredo and I had already decided all of you could use a little unscheduled drill you didn't know was a drill. And it did get all of us up on our toes, didn't it?"

"I imagine someone given to understatement might put it that way, Your Grace," Cardones agreed in a dust-dry tone. "Not," he continued, turning to Yu, "that we're not all delighted to see you, Admiral."

"I believe Captain Cardones speaks for all of us in that, Sir," Andrea Jaruwalski put in, and shook her head. "You've just more than doubled our strength in both SD(P)s and CLACs, after all!"

"And no one knows you have. Not yet, at least," Brigham observed with profound satisfaction.

"But that cuts both ways," Jaruwalski pointed out. "If the Andies do decide to try something, then the fact that we have Admiral Yu's units to back us up is going to come as a profoundly unhappy surprise for them. But if they did know he was here, then his presence might well . . . dissuade them from any risky adventures."

"The word will get around soon enough," Honor reassured her, then paused to accept a stein of Old Tillman from MacGuiness. She smiled her thanks at the steward and turned back to the ops officer.

"The Silesian grapevine is the only genuinely faster than light means of interstellar communications I've ever encountered, Andrea," she continued. "And, frankly, I'm not at all unhappy at how quickly I expect the word to get out. The secrecy about Admiral Yu's destination wasn't aimed at the Andies in the first place."

"Worried about the Opposition in the Keys, Your Grace?" Brigham asked shrewdly, and Honor nodded.

"That doesn't get mentioned outside 'the family,' " she cautioned, and Jaruwalski, Brigham, and Cardones all nodded in understanding.

"May I ask how long the Protector's Own will be staying?" Jaruwalski inquired after a moment, glancing back and forth between Honor and Yu.

"Until Steadholder Harrington tells us to go home," Yu replied in an emphatic tone. Jaruwalski's expression showed her flicker of surprise at the strength of his response, and he shook his head. "Sorry, Captain. It's just that my instructions from High Admiral Matthews and the Protector were a bit on the . . . firm side."

"I appreciate that, Alfredo," Honor said. "At the same time, though, I don't see how I could justify hanging onto this much of the Protector's Own indefinitely."

"You don't have to justify a thing, My Lady," Yu told her. "Part of our mission profile is to demonstrate our ability to maintain ourselves out of our own resources. That's why we brought along our own supply and service ships. At the moment, we've got everything we need to meet our logistical needs for a minimum of five T-months, and the High Admiral told me that he doesn't expect to see me back until we reach the bottom of the barrel."

"That's very generous of him—" Honor began, only to have Yu interrupt, politely but firmly, before she could complete the sentence.

"He told me that was exactly what you'd say, My Lady. Not that I really needed telling. And he also told me to tell you that you are a vassal of Protector Benjamin, and that as a loyal and obedient vassal you'll take the forces that the Protector chooses to send you, and you'll use them to accomplish the mission which you and the Protector discussed before your departure from Grayson. That was just before he added the bit about 'suffering your liege's displeasure' if you were foolish enough to turn down the reinforcements which both of you know you need."

"He's right, you know, Your Grace," Brigham said quietly. Honor looked at her, and the chief of staff shrugged. "I know you haven't specifically discussed this aspect of our assignment with any of us, but I think I've spent enough time in Grayson service to know what the Protector is thinking. As a Manticoran, I find it humiliating that we need someone else's support. As a Grayson, I can see exactly why the Protector is willing to provide that support. The last thing any of us need is for the situation in Silesia to blow up in all of our faces."

"Whether the Government recognizes that or not," Cardones agreed in an uncharacteristically grim tone.

"Well," Honor said mildly after a moment, a bit taken back, despite her ability to taste their emotions, by her subordinates' emphatic, unanimous agreement with one another, "I don't plan on sending Alfredo home tomorrow morning. For that matter, I don't really plan on sending him home at all until I'm certain the situation out here is under control. And to be completely honest, I expect that situation to work itself out, one way or another, within no more than another three or four T-months. Either the Andies will discover Alfredo's presence here and take it as conclusive proof that the Alliance means business and shelve any plans which might lead to a shooting incident, or else they'll go ahead and shoot anyway."

"And which way to you expect them to jump, My Lady, if I may ask?" Yu asked quietly.

"I wish I could tell you that," Honor replied.

"Now what do we do?"

Arnold Giancola looked up from the display of his memo pad as his brother asked the plaintive question. He hadn't heard Jason come in, and he grimaced as he realized his brother had just stepped in from the outer office . . . and that the door was standing wide open behind him.

"I think it might be a good idea if you came in and closed the door, first," he suggested testily. "I realize it's after hours, but I, for one, would just as soon not share our discussions with whoever happens along down the hallway."

Jason flushed at the acid tone, but it was one with which he had an unfortunate degree of familiarity. Arnold had never been a particularly patient individual, and he'd become progressively less patient over the past two T-years or so. In this instance, however, Jason had to admit he had a point, and he hastily stepped forward to clear the powered door's sensors and allow it to close.

"Sorry," he half-muttered, and Arnold sighed.

"No, Jase," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "I shouldn't have bitten your head off. I guess I'm even more irritated than I thought I was."