The Insurrection

"Well," Trevayne said, stepping in to fill the gap before Desai could speak, "I think Ms.

Ortega has raised some valid points. At the very least, we need to address the jurisdictional question posed by the civilian habitats on Gehe

"I don't think your Captain Desai likes me very much." Trevayne waved a negligent hand as he and Miriam walked together down the corridor after the meeting had broken up.

"Oh, don't feel singled out," he said airily. "I'm afraid Sonja's like that with everyone. It's just the way she is. Don't give it another thought." "Maybe," Miriam replied dubiously.

HONOR "Begin," the judge said, and Lieutenant Mazarak unleashed a short, straight lunge in sixte. Han's wrist flicked, brushing the blade to the outside, arm extending in a quick riposte in the same line. But he shortened to parry and fell back, and she followed, her mind almost blank as hand and eye and reflex carried the weight of her actions.

She disengaged and Mazarak pursued, pressing her cautiously, yet Han felt he was more defensive-minded, and she believed she had a better sense of point. She feinted above his hand, dropping her point to go in under his drawn guard, but he parried like lightning and riposted in octave. She put his point aside--butarely--with a counter-parry, and he tried a quick double disengage in sixte. But she was ready, seizing his blade and carrying it low and outside in a quick bind that flashed instantly into a fieche. Her epee snaked home as she passed to his left, and the scoring light lit.

"Touchg"," the judge intoned, and they drew apart, breath- "rI" Issuan.coation ing just a bi[ more heavily and saluting as they prepared to reengage for the next point.

Han emerged from the salle, mask in hand and under her arm, shaking her sweat-damp hair. She hadn't had it back all that long, and she rather enjoyed the feeling.

"Hah," Magda Petrovna said, "that's the silliest sport ever invented." "Come now, Magda! Its origins were anything but silly." "Maybe." Magda tucked a proprietary arm through Jason Windrider's. "But I'll settle my quarrels decently... with pistols at twenty meters, thank youI" "Russians have so little soul," Han mourned.

"It's fun, Magda. Not like judo, but I had to get back in shape somehow, and I thought I'd try something new." She shrugged. "I like it." "Well, certainly seems to've gotten you back on your feet, Admiral, sir," Jason Windrider teased.

"It does, does it, Commodore?" Han asked dfiatingly. Windrider stroked his new insignia and gri

When she was in uniform, her own sleeves matched Magda's and it made her uneasy. She'd been confident enough when they made her a commodore--but that was before Gimmaron.

Yet the Republic had no choice. It had paid heavily in ships and perso

Nor had all of them died victorious. There were still no formal avenues of communication between the Republic and the Rim Systems, but Vice Admiral Trevayne (and what a shock to discover he was not only alive but in Zephrain!) had supplied a casualty list, and there were few Republican survivors. Neither Analiese Ashigara nor Colin Trevayne was among them, and Hah wondered how Trevayne could live with what he'd done. The question held a dread fascination, for he, at least, had demonstrated just how far duty and honor could carry a person.

But the Republic's heavy butcher's bills explained the rapid promotions. Han had been a commodore for less than eighteen months, and ten of them had been spent as Daffyd Llewellyn's patient. What he'd been pleased to call a "fractured" femur had required massive surgical reconstruction, and the antigerone therapies had their disadvantages. To stretch the life span, they slowed the biological clock--including healing speeds. The quick-heal drugs which were part of the doomwhale's pharmaceutical cornucopia could offset that, but not after such rad poisoning as Han had survived, which had made her a semi-permanent fixture at the hospital, though she'd bullied Llewellyn into ou-patient status the moment she began therapy.

"At least you look healthy enough jumping around with that ridiculous thing." Magda's teasing voice pulled Han back from her thoughts.

"Thanks. BuPers thinks so, too--comI got confirmation of my new status yesterday, and I'm back in space next month! I'm going to miss Chang, though." "I imagine so," Magda agreed, and Hah hid a smile as her friends exchanged glances. She knew they both resented the fact that Windrider's promotion made him too senior to remain Magda's chief of staffeven while it delighted them both as proof of his professional reputation and future. "Who's replacing him?" Magda asked after a moment.

"Bob Tomanaga. He's cleared for active duty again, too." "Tomanaga?" Magda repeated.

"I know he worried me once, but I was wrong.

It's just the way Bob is. He can't seem to be discouraged or even detached no matter what." Hah shook her head. "I don't know why he's so round-eyed." "Certainly not," Windrider agreed, gri

"Well," Han paused by her waiting skimmer, "back to the salt mines. You two will join me for supper, won't you?" "I will," Magda agreed with a slight pout, "and Jason may. His group's spacing out with Kellerman, you know." "I'd forgotten." Hah frowned, rummaging through her orderly memory. Kellerman was slated to carry out another probe of the rear approaches to the Rim Systems. The lifeless warp lines there were ill-suited to sustained operations, and neither Har--comnor anyone else, it seemed--expected much to come of the probes. But there'd be enough skirmishing to satisfy the newsies, and the Fleet was stretched thin at the moment. The Rim had been demoted to secondary status while the frontline systems were stabilized and the new shipyards got into production.

"It's all right, Magda," she said finally.

"Anton and the dockyard are squabbling over Unicorn's repairs. He's not going anywhere without his flagship, and the yard won't turn her loose for at least another forty hours. You'll both have time for supper." "And for @. little something else, God willing," Windrider murmured as he opened the hatch for Han. His eyes twinkled wickedly, and Magda actually blushed. "But we will be there for supper, Admiral. Won't we, Admiral?" "Unless I brig you for disrespect," Magda growled, and tossed Hah a salute. "Bye, Hah. See you this evening." And the skimmer swept away.

"Well, Chang, I guess this is goodbye." "Yes, sir." The bulky captain faced her over her desk, cap under one arm, unreadable as ever, and Han studied him carefully. They liked and respected one another, but there was an i

No, not subordinate. Assistant. Better yet, colleague. "Chang, I won't embarrass you by saying how much Ill miss you," she said slowly, "but I wistl say that Direhound couldn't find a better skipper. And---was she looked into his eyes" that no one ever had a better chief of staff." "'hank you, sir," he said. "It's been a pleasure, Admiral. Ig" He broke off suddenly, and gave a tiny shrug.

"Very well, Captain." She held out her hand with the traditional blessing. "Good fortune and good hunting, Chang." "Thank you, sir," he said gruffly, gripping her hand hard.