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Chapter 13
The Achilles, and even the orbiting facilities scented with exotic spices, wafting into the very ships themselves, including the afterdeck cabin of the Moons of Jeopardy where Lieutenant O’Brian sat waiting for his interview with Admiral Lavery. Several small scuttles opened into the space beyond, and through one he could see his Roth, roughly centered, docked at another part of the sprawling station. She looked particularly shabby in comparison with the spit and polish of the flagship, but as his meeting with the unknown admiral drew nearer, Jack stole frequent glances at her.
The cabin door opened. “Commander O’Brian?” asked a Marine, resplendent in deep scarlet and bright white.
“I am Commander O’Brian.”
“The Admiral will receive you now. This way, if you please.”
The Marine led Jack down a carpeted, paneled corridor to the Admiral’s day cabin, where he knocked and announced Commander O’Brian on the wall-mounted intercom.
“Send him in,” replied a tinny voice, and the Marine unlatched and opened the door. “This way, sir. The Admiral is a little deaf, so you’ll need to speak up a bit.”
Jack stepped through and the Marine withdrew, closing the door. This was a spacious cabin - acres of space that separated him from the Admiral, who sat behind a richly carved wooden desk, his back to a noble spread of glass through which sunlight streamed, casting the great man’s face into shadow. Jack saluted.
The Admiral returned the salute and gestured to a chair. “So,” he said. “You’ve met the Libre.” Showed up about a month ago - god-damned nightmare. Took fourteen transports and merchantman, hulled Pallas when she was lucky enough to find her, or unlucky, given what a hash Compton made of it. Man’s an inveterate ass. But I digress. Nice sleight of hand, getting away from her like that, but don’t expect her to fall for it again. Never show the same trick to the same audience, and all that; and Dupree’s no fool.”
“Thank you, sir, I shall bear that in mind,” said Jack, relieved to to have to reply to the more charged part of the Admiral’s observations.
“You’re welcome. You deserve it. Just don’t let it go to your head. I’m sending you back to the Neva system as part of a convoy, with the Vindictive, Chambers. Between her guns and yours, and those of the rest of the convoy, if they aren’t captained by old women, you should have no trouble if you run into her again. The Libre, that is. And maybe if Dupree sees that we’re running convoys he’ll disappear, become someone else’s problem for a while. Have you any questions?”
“No, sir,”
“Good. Get your cargo off-loaded, you’ll have more coming aboard tomorrow early. I’ve held the convoy to fit you in; there’s not a moment to lose.”
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