Defender

“We’d better,” Ogun said. “Captain Graham has the right idea. We’d better bring the decision-making here, before they bring their decisions here.”

“And I say wait.”

“You’re outvoted.”

“I know I’m outvoted, as long as Captain Graham says yes on cue. I’m outvoted and we’ve got a mess. We’ve got the aiji’s grandmother, and now it all involves prestige and power on the planet and could bring the government crashing down if we don’t take this woman out there to interfere in our internal affairs. Am I right, Mr. Cameron?”

“Yes, ma’am. You’re absolutely right about the going. But I resist the characterization—”

“And what the aiji thinks affects how efficiently we get supply. Isn’t that always the threat?”

“The aiji’s stability does affect things,” Bren said. “Agreements made, are agreements, and have to stand. But the question is—and I’m asking, in the aiji’s name, agreeing with you, Captain Sabin—is this the best decision?”

“Hell, no,” Sabin said.

“It is the best decision,” Ogun said. “And it’s the decision we’ve already made.”

“Sir,” Bren said. “Captain Sabin. Excuse me. If we get two, then three, then four decision-makers involved here, pretty soon it can happen that they’re not thinking is this a good idea? They’re thinking, how can I make sure my party’s represented in the outcome? That worries me. It worries me exceedingly. I wasn’t consulted. Ramirez never consulted me…”

“That was rather well your aiji’s option, wasn’t it?” Ogun asked.

Score. “Yes, sir, it was.”

“Stupidity,” Sabin said, “and Ivote for keeping quiet, building one, two, three ships, as many as we can—”

“Two, three, and four ships still won’t match what a hostile species who’s had the nerve to blow hell out of an alien outpost may have,” Ogun countered. “We can’t knowwhat they’ve got. We can’t ever know when what we’ve got is adequate to protect ourselves.”

“We can’t know,” Sabin shouted at him, and pounded her fist on the table, “because you want to go out there and pull our damned observers out!”

“Observers who can’t transmit to us without bringing all hell down on their heads,” Ogun retorted in a quieter voice. “And who don’t give a damn for us over them. As well not have them. As well get the provocation out of there, now, while it looks like our choice, an exit with dignity, and not us ru

“It’s not official if Graham changes his vote,” Sabin said.

Tabini couldn’t go back, just withdraw his representatives and say to an already nervous Association—oh, well, we changed our minds. Jase Graham voted no, and we’re turning back.

He looked at Jase.

Jase didn’t look at him. Jase looked only at Ogun, then at Sabin. And voted. “It stands.”

Dammit, Bren thought to himself. But not a whole-hearted dammit. Only a sane wish this had gone differently—that he’d been in the loop a long, long time ago.

And how could Tabini do this to him?

He didn’t know where Jase got his decision—whether obedience to Ramirez and Ogun, whether the sense that once the dowager reached here, there was no going back, but effectively—what could they do?

He tried to think of something. He tried frantically to think of something.

“In a nutshell,” Sabin said, “you mean now crew’s involved. They know command’s lied—and we can’t deny that. The atevi have gotten into it. The onworlders have gotten into it. So the mission’s launched, foolhardy as it is. Cameron’s told you we’re crazy. But we’re going hellbent ahead with what never was a good idea, because it was Ramirez’s idea, and he committed us to this mission. And now it’s all mine.”

“I’m sure you’ll carry it out with intelligence and dispatch,” Ogun said. “I’ve never doubted that.”

“I’ll carry it out. And it’s going to be ourdecision.”

Sabin. Who didn’t trust atevi.

And, Bren thought, he had to work with her.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Captain Sabin, somewhat to my own surprise, I’ve taken your side in this. I’m in a similar position: events have gone very far down a track that I can’t retrace either. Since we’re committed to getting what you now admit to be a Pilots’ Guild authority off what you claim to be a wreck of a station, quietly, we hope they’ll listen to reason. But let me ask thisquestion: where do you stand, relative to them, in making future decisions? Bluntly put, are you going to defer decision-making to them, considering they outrank you—or are you going to retain command of the situation, over their objections?”

Silence met that question. Then: “You know I’m a bastard. I’m in command. And we won’t surrender that authority.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“We’ll talk, if that’s possible.”

“More reassuring, Captain. Thank you.”

“I’ll be staying with the station,” Ogun said, “to carry out agreements, to get the shipyard in operation. Captain Sabin will command Phoenixand the mission. That’s the way it will be. Each to our talents.”

Sabin’s left eyebrow twitched. Sabin was brilliant with numbers, had a first-rate instinct in emergencies, and set off arguments like sparks into tinder wherever she walked into a situation. She’d backed Tamun. She didn’t work well with people. Damned right she wasn’t handling the station situation.

“I’ll go with the mission,” Jase said. “With your permission.”

“Well,” Sabin said, “well, well. So we havean opinion. And we want to be helpful. You want to stay with your atevi allies?”

“I believe I can be useful.”

“Mr. Cameron?” Ogun asked.

His decision? God.

“I’m sure Captain Graham would be an asset in either post.”

“Are you up to it?” Sabin asked. “How do you suppose we’regoing to get along?”

Jase—Jase with the devil’s own temper—didn’t blow. He composed his hands in front of him, as carefully, as easily as Sabin’s laced fingers. “What I want and what you want, ma’am, neither one matters against the safety of all aboard. A second opinion might be useful. Someone is likely going to do something or propose something to the detriment of the agreements we have back here at this star. I know those agreements, I know the ship’s needs, the station’s needs, and I have an expertise that’s more critical there than here.”

“You have an expertise. We’ve got a translator, in Mr. Cameron.”

“That’s not what he does. As a ship, we don’t see what he does. We don’t understandpeople who aren’t under the same set of orders for the last several hundred years. Diplomacy—diplomacy, captain. Negotiation. Mr. Cameron’s good at it. So am I. And I can sit here on this station, helping Ms. Mercheson translate, as I assume she’ll stay in that capacity, or I can go out there, giving you a backup, helping explain to Mr. Cameron and the aiji-dowager how the crew works and how the Guild works. And helping arrive at a reasonable conclusion.”

Sabin didn’t say a thing, only listened, hands still clasped, still easy. “We’re not negotiating my orders, Captain Graham. We’re not having any other orders.”

“We don’t know what we’ll meet. And I know routine operations.”

“Let’s hope for routine,” Sabin said glumly. “Keep the dowager quiet, and you’ll be a use.” Sabin’s cold eyes shot straight at Bren. “So you’re going. What kind of space allotment do you need?”

On the spot? Without calculations? “Myself, two security, four staff. The dowager—she has triple that.”

“No outside equipment,” Sabin said, “be clear on that. No electronics independent of our boards. That’s a safety issue.”

“We exist within the station without disruption and my staff is well aware of the issues. I’m sure we can exist within the ship. These are extremely skilled perso