Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil
- Автор: Зан Тимоти
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Random House
- ISBN: 9781473596580
- Жанр: Боевая фантастика
Электронная книга - «Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil». Краткое содержание книги:
“Yes,” Roscu said. “Specifically, the position of Admiral Dy’lothe’s second officer aboard the Venturous.” She paused. “The Groundlion man-of-war currently in orbit over Rhigar.”
“I know where the Venturous is,” Rivlex said. His voice was still carefully controlled, but Roscu could tell he understood the full implications of such an assignment.
The Syndicure had tried to cover up the whole Sunrise incident, and for a while they’d succeeded. But now, after five weeks of silence, the details had begun to leak out to the general public. Rather to Roscu’s surprise, her name was being batted around nearly as often and as prominently as Ar’alani’s, Ziinda’s, and Thrawn’s.
Which meant that putting Roscu into an honored and powerful post aboard the Venturous wouldn’t just be a show of gratitude. It would also be a deliberate and pointed message that any sanctions Dy’lothe was ordered to enforce weren’t directed at the Clarr family as a whole, but solely at the intractable Patriarch who refused to accept responsibility for his actions.
“That’s all,” Roscu said, standing up. “I understand you’ll be meeting with the Patriels in half an hour. I imagine you’ll want some time to prepare.” She nodded. “Good day, Your Venerante.”
Rhigar Patriel Clarr’etu’vilimt was waiting in the corridor as Roscu left the office and headed toward the homestead defense center. “Well?” he asked, falling into step beside her.
“I don’t know,” Roscu admitted. “He wasn’t happy about me being aboard the Venturous, but I don’t know if that was enough to change his mind about resigning.”
“Let’s hope it was,” Retuvili said grimly. “Turning him over to the Syndicure for interrogation and censure would be a horrible precedent to set. But keeping a possible traitor as the family’s Patriarch would be even worse.” He looked sideways at Roscu. “Are you going to take the Venturous post?”
“Depends on if Patriarch Rivlex decides to see reason,” Roscu said. “I’d rather stay with the family fleet, but our honor and position are more important than my personal wishes.”
“Well, whatever happens, rest assured you’ll always have a place here,” Retuvili said. “Commander of the homestead defense force, captain of the Orisson—whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“I appreciate the offer, and I’ll certainly consider it,” Roscu said. “As regards the Orisson, though, I’d say it already has an excellent commander in Captain Raamas.”
“I agree,” Retuvili said, a small smile playing at his lips. “Though prestige-wise, he’s hardly on a level with The One They Could Not Kill.”
Roscu frowned. “The what?”
“Hadn’t you heard?” Retuvili asked, all innocence behind his smile. “That’s what they’re calling you these days on Rhigar. The One They—”
“Yes, I got it the first time,” Roscu interrupted. “How do they figure that?”
“There was the asteroid missile attack at Ornfra,” Retuvili said, ticking off fingers. “The sneak attack by the Grysk ship later in that same system. Then finally the Sunrise battle. You survived them all.”
“So did Raamas and the rest of the Orisson crew,” Roscu growled. “So why are they hanging the name on me?”
“Because the Clarr family needs heroes right now,” Retuvili said quietly, his smile fading. “For better or worse, you’re the one they’ve latched onto.”
Roscu sighed. “Fine,” she said. “But as soon as Rivlex is gone, the hero thing ends. All right?”
“I’ll do what I can,” Retuvili promised. “But that isn’t exactly how the hero thing works.”
“Then figure out how to make it work that way,” Roscu said firmly. The One They Could Not Kill. It was silly, it was embarrassing, and it was inaccurate.
But she had to admit it did have kind of a nice ring to it.
“This,” Ziinda said flatly, “is ridiculous. How is it that I’m getting a commendation and Mid Captain Apros isn’t?”
“You already know the answer to that,” Ba’kif said patiently, looking and sounding like a man who’d already faced enough trouble for one day and didn’t really want to take on any more.
Ziinda sympathized. She also didn’t care. Ba’kif was her only contact with the Defense Hierarchy Council, and the only way to get a message to the Council was through him.
And she’d had a lot of experience lately going through things that didn’t want to be gone through.
“I know the official answer,” Ziinda said. “The Irizi co-sponsored a commendation for me, so I got one. The Csap declined to co-sponsor one for him, so he didn’t. And you and I both know that’s nonsense. A commendation is military, and the military is supposed to stand outside family politics.”
“Rank, promotions, and assignments are military,” Ba’kif corrected her. “Commendations are prestige. Since families always get a share of that glory, they also have to be part of the process.”
“And you think that’s fair?”
“I never said anything about fairness,” Ba’kif said, still far too calm for Ziinda’s taste. At least he could be a little indignant about this travesty. “But you have to look at the situation from the Csap point of view. Apros had in his possession at Sunrise an alien artifact that by all rights should never have left the UAG vaults on Sposia.”
“An artifact that Thrawn walked off with, not Apros.”
“The point is that the records show Apros was the one credited with operating it,” Ba’kif continued. “The Csap Patriarch evidently decided he didn’t want to open that particular can of trouble by calling extra attention to it.”
Ziinda ground her teeth. Time to try a different approach. “Fine,” she said. “If a commendation is out of the question, how about a promotion to senior captain?”
Ba’kif’s eyebrows went up a bit. “You think Sunrise is enough to justify that?”
“Absolutely,” Ziinda said firmly.
Because it wasn’t just Sunrise. Apros had also commanded the Grayshrike at Hoxim, after Ziinda let herself be duped into joining Councilor Lakuviv’s disastrous attempt to claim that useless world for the Xodlak. As her first officer he’d handled the ship with calm efficiency, worked with her and Thrawn to pull off the deception that had prevented the Ascendancy from possibly collapsing into anarchy right then and there, and never breathed a word of the secret to anyone. For that alone he deserved every bit of gratitude the Council could scrape together.
“Interesting,” Ba’kif murmured. “That might be possible. I suppose you’re going to insist he be given his own ship, as well?”
“That would be only fitting,” Ziinda agreed. “A patrol cruiser would be a good place to start. Maybe the Parala or Bokrea—”
“What about the Grayshrike?”
Ziinda twitched, feeling like she’d just been slapped in the face. “What do you mean?” she asked carefully.
“The Expansionary Defense Fleet only has so many ships to go around, you know,” Ba’kif reminded her. “I’m simply asking if you want Apros to have a ship badly enough to offer him yours.”
“I—” Ziinda broke off, the rest of her reflexive refusal sticking in her throat. She’d worked long and hard to be worthy of commanding a heavy cruiser. It was a testament to her ability and determination, and she’d handled the position with skill and integrity.