David Weber - The Road to Hell

And they’re a lot more likely to back someone like Therman Ulthar then they are to obey Thalmayr, if it comes down to it , Sarma thought grimly. Unfortunately, there’re only five of them-six, counting Therman-and Thalmayr’s got most of a company of regulars under his command .

Regulars who didn’t have the personal investment of the 2nd Andarans…and who still believed the lies they’d been fed by their own intelligence officers.

“If we were closer to home, we could go to the JAG,” he said out loud.

“And if crocodiles had wings they’d be dragons,” Ulthar replied sourly. “I’d rather go through channels myself, but from what Iftar said, ‘channels’ wouldn’t give a rat’s arse.”

“Not anyone we could reach, at least.” Sarma puffed out his cheeks in exasperation. “You’re brother-in-law’s right about that, I’m afraid. I told you what happened when I tried to report Neshok’s violation of the Accords to Thousand Carthos.”

Ulthar grunted unhappily. The Kerellian Accords were the bedrock of the Andaran Army’s honor, deep in the bone and sinew of what made Andara Andara. Violating them was a capital offense, but if Sarma and his own brother-in-law, Iftar Halesak, were right, Hadrign Thalmayr wasn’t the only one ignoring them. In fact, Ulthar doubted Thalmayr would have had the courage to violate them if they weren’t already being violated with the connivance-or at least the knowledge-of officers far senior to himself. No. Thalmayr was a carrion eater, a jackal gorging on the stinking leftovers of someone else’s kill. And given the lies the Expeditionary Force had been told-the lies about who’d shot first not just at Toppled Timber but at the Mahritha portal, and, far worse, the lie about Magister Halathyn’s death-that someone else was very highly placed.

Under normal circumstances, it was an officer’s duty to report any evidence of a violation of the Kerellian Accords to the Judge Advocate General’s office. He had no choice about that, and the Articles of War specifically protected him against retaliation even if his suspicions were later deemed unfounded. Of course, what the Articles promised and what practice delivered weren’t always the same thing, but at least Sarma and Ulthar could have expected their allegations to be rigorously investigated and that anyone who was the subject of that investigation would be very careful to avoid any open appearance of retaliation afterward.

Under normal circumstances. Under these circumstances it was entirely possible that a pair of nosy, holier-than-thou junior officers who dared to rock their superiors’ boat might simply disappear. It sickened Ulthar to even think such a thing, but if Thousand Carthos, Two Thousand Harshu’s senior infantry officer, and Five Hundred Neshok, who reported directly to the two thousand, were guilty of violating the Accords, why should they hesitate over a few more murders simply because the victims wore the same uniform they’d already befouled? And if those violations were being winked at in the field, and if there was anything to Iftar’s belief that the lies the AEF had been told were part of a deliberate disinformation policy designed to whip up the troops’ fury, they had to assume Harshu’s immediate superiors knew about it, too. So any attempt to report their suspicions up-chain to Two Thousand mul Gurthak or his superiors was likely to be…poorly received, as well.

“I think,” Sarma said slowly, “that whichever way we jump, there’s going to be hell to pay. If you or I try to…relieve Thalmayr, you know damned well he’s going to call it mutiny. Probably mutiny in the face of the enemy, given everything that’s going on. And if he does, and if someone farther up the food chain”-even here, and even to Ulthar, he carefully didn’t mention any names like “Harshu” or “mul Gurthak” out loud-“really is involved, we could end up looking at a field court-martial.”

A field court-martial, he did not point out, whose sentence would almost certainly be death.

“I know.” Ulthar’s face might have been beaten iron for all the expression it showed, and his voice was colder and even harder. “But if we don’t do something, if we don’t at least try to stop the rot, then we’re complicit in it. I don’t know about you, Jaralt, but I can’t let that happen. I just can’t.”

“Well, in that case, I don’t suppose we have a lot of choice.” To his own surprise, Sarma actually smiled ever so slightly. “On the other hand, I hope you won’t object to trying to at least do something effective about it. If we’re going up against the dragon with a slingshot, I’d at least like to do it in a way bastards like Thalmayr and Neshok can’t just sweep under the carpet afterward.”

“Oh, I think I can promise you that much, whatever happens,” Ulthar said grimly. “I’ve already sent an outside-channels message home that nobody’s going to be able to ignore when it arrives.”

“You have?” Sarma let the front legs of his chair thump back to the floor and leaned forward, eyes narrow. “How?”

Ulthar smiled crookedly and shook his head.

“It wasn’t that hard, really. Thalmayr wasn’t with the Company long enough to figure out that Valnar Rohsahk isn’t just our platoon RC specialist; he’s also our hacker. He didn’t even work up a sweat hacking Fifty Wentys’ spellware.”

“You had him hack the censor’s spellware?” Sarma asked very carefully.

“Of course I did.” Ulthar’s smile was considerably broader than it had been. “It’s a pity Thalmayr lost the Company files when the Sharonians kicked our arse. If he hadn’t, he might know Valnar was honor graduate in the Garth Showma Institute’s counter-spellware course. If he’d been willing to transfer to one of the regular regiments, they’d have made him a sword or even a senior sword in their recon section on the spot. Wentys never had a chance after I turned him loose.”

Sarma just looked at him for several seconds while his own mind raced. He’d seen Shield Valnar Rohsahk here at Fort Ghartoun, but he hadn’t paid him much attention. Rohsahk was probably a year or two younger even than Sarma, with light brown hair and unremarkable features. Like Ulthar, he’d been severely wounded in the Sharonian attack on the Mahritha portal. That was true of all the 2nd Andarans here at Fort Ghartoun; they’d been left by their captors to spare them the additional pain of being transported across such rough terrain by someone who didn’t have dragons. He seemed to keep to himself quite a bit, but now that Sarma thought about it, the shield always seemed to have a game or some other app running on his personal crystal. Or at least that was what Sarma had assumed Rohsahk was up to…

“And just what, if I might ask, did Shield Rohsahk do to Fifty Wentys’ spellware?” he asked with a certain trepidation.

“He just hid a file in the letter I sent my wife to tell her I was alive after all,” Ulthar said. “It’s keyed to the standard extraction code Arylis uses to unpack all my letters, but it won’t activate until it hears the code in her voice.” He shook his head. “If Wentys could find his arse with both hands we’d have had to think up something a lot more sophisticated.”

“What if someone farther up-chain is better at his job than Wentys is?”

“They could hardly be worse at it,” Ulthar pointed out. “I mean, do you really think Five Hundred Isrian left his best commo officer here in Thermyn with the gods only know what waiting for the AEF when it finally hits a Sharonian position that’s too tough to take?”

That was a valid point, the other fifty reflected. Commander of Fifty Tohlmah Wentys was a Chalaran who’d somehow ended up in the Army instead of the Navy, and he was unlikely to rise much above his present rank. He was a stolid sort-an officer who did what was required of him without imagination, drive, or ambition. He was sufficiently Gifted to perform adequately as a communications specialist in peacetime, but as Ulthar had just suggested, he was hardly the pick of the litter.