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Far too much. Evan lost control of the Thunderbolt. Lost his orientation with the ground. He was still fighting vertigo when the autoca
Every screen went blank.
The cockpit pod quit shaking, settling back to its neutral position as the simulator reset itself.
Only the communications system worked.
“Nice try, Cadet.” Cox again, but his gravelly voice wasn’t as commanding as before. It had a ti
Cox had jumped into another simulator pod, and taken control of the Schmitt.
“So the enemy forces are only bloodthirsty Capellans when it suits you?” Evan asked, losing guard of his tongue for a few irretrievable seconds. Damn—
The sergeant let him stew with his slip for a moment. When he came back, though, it was with just as much good-natured mocking as before. “You want to give The Republic some spine in this scenario, then I’m going to give the Confederation a brain. Now get showered, Cadet, cool off and report to briefing. The class can learn things from your example.”
“Yes, sir.” Evan couldn’t pump much false sincerity into his voice.
No doubt the class would be shown once again how the Confederation had been a monster. A dark, Capellan monster, to be fought and eventually defeated. Except that Evan knew monsters only existed to those with cause to fear. For all its accomplishments and white-knight posturing, here The Republic feared the truth. That Liao was Capellan, too. And it would be free.
12
On Deadly Terms
Republic forces lost ground on Gan Singh when logistical support collapsed. Prefect Tao cited Ba
Morgestern
Mă-tou-xī District, Palos
Prefecture V, Republic of the Sphere
18 June 3134
The Lazarus Lounge, located at the far end of Morgestern’s Interplanetary Spaceport E Concourse, was dimly lit and had an outdated sound system that played only maudlin techno-jazz that was fresh before 3100. There was very little glass to look outside on the more successful travelers and tourists. Patrons of the Lazarus flew coach or the modern equivalent of steerage.
And, surprisingly, there were no clocks.
Jacob Ba
Ba
And it was costing Ba
Ba
“Interesting place for our meeting,” Rieves said.
He was a thick-necked, pug of a man, hands clasped behind his back and always rising up on the balls of his feet. Tense. Commander of the Confederation’s Dynasty Guard and ranking officer in the Gan Singh theater of operations, he had direct control over his own regiment and the Third Confederation Reserve Cavalry. He was also “first among equals” with the sang-shao of the Second McCarron’s Armored Cavalry—a Capellan way of being in charge without really taking charge.
Meaning they weren’t required to do exactly as he commanded, but it really was a good idea to do so.
Sang-shao Rieves eschewed his uniform today, dressing in a rumpled business suit that looked less out of place in the Lazarus than Ba
“You have your demands, I have mine.”
Rieves had ordered this meeting under a very thin veneer of politeness, pulling Ba
“The Confederation has demands,” Rieves corrected him. “So far we are advancing along our timetable as pla
Jones laughed. Her red hair glowed softly in the bar’s muted light. She held up four slender fingers, one at a time, each tipped with black polish. “Wei, Palos, Shipka, Foot Fall,” she ticked off the names. “Four worlds taken in as many weeks. What’re you complaining about? That has to be some kind of CapCon record.”
“And Gan Singh,” Rieves said, his pride in the Confederation attempting to trump Jones’s snide comment. “It will be ours by tomorrow’s end.”
“Really?” She smiled, showing white, white teeth. “What about the Sixth Hastati Sentinels?”
Ba
Well, it had worked. “The Sixth Hastati?” Rieves glowered. “We were told that New Canton would not involve itself in the affairs of Prefecture V.”
“Because of some border raids being pushed on Elnath and Ohrensen?” Ba
Perhaps not, he didn’t add.
“If the Sixth Hastati are under the localized command of Prefect Shun Tao, that gives him breathing room on New Aragon. Can he push out at Menkar or Wei?”
A bowl of pretzels sat on the bar near his right elbow. Ba