Christopher Nuttall - Barbarians at the Gates

“And you’re just going to let me go back to him?” Caitlin stared at him.

“We’ll give you your parole,” Marius said. “If you swear not to take up arms against us, we will release you when we enter the Harmony System.” He frowned. “But should we catch you fighting us in the future, we’ll execute you on the spot.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Caitlin said, finally.

Marius nodded, impatiently. He’d expected that.

“But if you wish me to try to convince him to surrender, I will do so,” Caitlin finished.

“That suits me,” Marius said. He looked up at the guards. “Escort Captain Bowery to her quarters; keep her under guard.”

“Aye, sir,” the Marine said.

The hatch had barely closed behind the women and her guards when Williams started to froth at the mouth.

“Admiral,” he said, so quickly that the words started to blur together, “the Senate will not be happy at the thought of letting the bastard go free.”

“Exile is not the same as going free,” Vaughn rumbled, his deep voice echoing through the compartment. “He will remain on one world for the rest of his life under permanent supervision by security forces. It may be a comfortable prison, but it will still be a prison. He won’t be allowed to leave, ever.”

“The fact remains,” Williams began, “that you are offering him…”

“Enough,” Marius said quietly. “Our objective is to put an end to the war as soon as possible. If offering Justinian exile instead of a bullet in the back of the head succeeds in ending the war, we will accept it and be glad. And besides, this way we take all of Harmony’s industrial plants and workers—enough to please your masters, surely?”

Williams flushed. “Admiral…”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Marius promised. “Now, I have to contact Captain Garibaldi and inform him that he’s going to play messenger boy again.”

Williams took the hint and stormed out of the compartment.

Marius and Vaughn exchanged a long look, then Vaughn and Tiffany followed the Political Commissioner through the hatch. Marius allowed himself a tired smile, keyed his console and issued orders to Midway , and then headed over to check on the reports from the replenishment teams. The fleet train had entered the system after the battle was won and had immediately started reloading ships and arsenals. Marius had warned them that they might be departing for Harmony within a day, so they were now trying to determine how many ships could be repaired on the spot, and how many needed to be sent back to a shipyard.

His intercom buzzed forty minutes later.

“Admiral, Captain Garibaldi is requesting a personal meeting,” Raistlin said. There was no hint in his voice that he knew the captain personally, although Marius privately suspected that his young aide was jealous. His father’s influence had seen him appointed to a prestigious post that was dangerous, but without the chance to win glory. “He says that it’s urgent.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Marius replied. “Did he say what it was about?”

“No, sir,” Raistlin said. “He specified that it was for your ears only.”

“Right,” Marius said. “Tell him to come aboard. I’ll see him in thirty minutes.”

Roman had lost his parents before he reached his majority and, like all parentless RockRats, had been sent to live with relatives. His uncle had taken him in and tried to fill the void in Roman’s life, although the old man hadn’t been in the best of states to take care of a teenager. Despite that, the young Roman had dreaded having to face him when he knew that he was in trouble.

He felt that way now. It was his duty to face the admiral, to tell him how they could approach Admiral Justinian, and yet…it might be the last act of Roman’s career.

The hatch opened in front of him and he stepped into the admiral’s quarters. A glowing star chart caught his attention at once, but he looked away from it to see the admiral sitting behind his desk. He didn’t look forgiving.

Part of Roman quailed, yet he kept walking until he was in front of the desk. He snapped a perfect salute.

“At ease,” Admiral Drake growled. “Take a seat. What was so important that you insisted on a personal meeting?”

Roman sat down and pressed his hands tightly together to keep them from shaking.

“I saw your orders, sir,” he said. “You want us to take Captain Bowery back to Harmony and get her to convince Admiral Justinian to surrender…”

“Yes,” Admiral Drake said. It was not a question.

“It may not prove convincing,” Roman said. “He may feel that she has been subverted, or threatened, or maybe have even changed her coat. Is he going to be willing to listen to her?”

“I have no one else to send,” Admiral Drake said dryly.

“That isn’t true, sir,” Roman said. “There is one other person he’ll listen to.”

Admiral Drake looked up. “And do you have a secret connection with him that passed unnoticed for five years?”

“No, sir,” Roman said. “I have his daughter.”

There was a long, uneasy silence.

“I think you’d better start at the beginning,” Admiral Drake said, carefully. “And I suggest that you make it extremely good.”

Roman outlined the full story, starting with the discovery of the wreck of the Harmonious Repose and ending with his decision to keep Henrietta confined on Midway rather than hand her over to the tender mercies of the Senate. Admiral Drake listened, his face showing no expression, as Roman explained that Admiral Justinian would be bound to listen to his daughter. The mere fact that she was still alive, without having been executed by the Senate or killed by pirates, would be very convincing. It would be a gesture of good faith.

“You know, captain,” Admiral Drake said, when Roman had finished, “I cannot decide if I should promote you, or send you up for court martial.”

Roman kept his mouth shut, figuring that anything he said now would only get him in further trouble.

“You disobeyed orders that came directly from the Senate,” Admiral Drake said, as if he were building a list of charges. “You kept someone prisoner without reporting her presence to higher authority. You wasted Federation Navy resources on looking after the prisoner…should I go on?”

“No, sir,” Roman said.

“On the other hand, you’re quite right,” Admiral Drake continued.

Roman breathed a sigh of relief.

“His daughter would be a much more effective peace envoy than his flag captain,” Drake said. “So…I guess I’ll just have to thank you for your foresight and, in the interests of balance, cancel both the promotion and the court martial.”

“Thank you, sir,” Roman said.

“Which doesn’t mean,” Admiral Drake said in a suspiciously pleasant voice, “that you are to go and do it again. I’m going to have to shield you from the commissioners and come up with some bullshit story about how we captured her. Do not put me in a position like that again, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Roman said.

“Return to your ship,” Admiral Drake ordered. “Prepare for the mission; brief the admiral’s daughter and make sure she knows what’s expected of her. And captain?”

Roman looked up nervously.

“Good work.”

Marius watched the hatch close behind Captain Garibaldi before he broke down in helpless laughter. The sheer audacity of capturing the enemy’s daughter and keeping her prisoner, without telling anyone …he chuckled again while shaking his head. Captain Garibaldi’s luck still held strong. Who knows? Perhaps he could end the war without any more fighting.