Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [170]
“I have the data you uploaded to me, Tasia Tamblyn. It is sufficient.”
“Not for me.”
Tasia had combed through her private records, retrieved the files and diary entries that pertained to EA. She had collated them into summary documents and uploaded each one into the compy’s sadly emptied brain, after carefully sanitizing them to remove any secret details about Roamer activities. Though EA could now recite the particulars of major experiences she had shared with Tasia, the words were lifeless statements of fact, recitations instead of memories.
Tasia sighed, hating her own suspicions, not being able to trust EA. “I miss the real you.” She lay back on her bunk. So much about Osquivel had been a royal mess. One of these days she’d make up for it. The EDF would find a way to wipe out the murderous aliens that had killed her brother, her lover Robb, and too many others to name.
There was a war on, and she was spoiling for a fight. And here she was, grounded on Mars, lying in bed, doing nothing!
Restless, she climbed into her off-duty uniform and left her quarters. She went to the mess hall to listen to the conversations, maybe track down a game of Ping-Pong. The EDF was obviously gearing up for a large initiative. And her not-too-subtle inquiries had been rebuffed with typically vague military responses. As a Manta commander, she hoped she’d be at the forefront of the action, whatever it was. At the moment, though, her ship wasn’t ready and much of her crew had been reassigned.
She had good reason to be suspicious.
She dispensed a cup of coffee—bitter and lukewarm, as usual—and sat at a table with other Manta commanders and first officers. She heard them discussing deployment orders and targeting priorities. They seemed excited at the prospect of the new rammer ships, which would require only a handful of human commanders and teams of Soldier compies with specialized programming.
Trying to join the conversation, she asked, “Did they post rammer assignments yet? Any of you chosen?”
“No, but I’m glad to be getting more hands-on action,” said one commander. “It’s not the hydrogues, but at least it’s something.”
“About time King Peter decided to teach those damned Roachers a lesson.”
Another officer grumbled, “Cutting off the fleet’s ekti supply in a time of war—are they insane?”
“Roamers?” Tasia blurted. “What does the new mission have to do—”
Suddenly, the others at the table recalled who Tasia was, despite her EDF uniform. “Never mind, Tamblyn. We’ve got our marching orders.” The senior Manta commander stood. “We’d all better get back and check on our ships, right, everyone?”
Tasia sat drinking her coffee as the other commanders and first officers pointedly left her alone. Teach the Roamers a lesson? What on Earth was General Lanyan up to now? Since his encounter with the pirate Rand Sorengaard a long time ago, he’d had a chip on his shoulder the size of a minor planet.
Sure, she had heard grumblings about Speaker Peroni’s decision to cut off stardrive fuel shipments. Tasia had originally considered it nonsense that the EDF was destroying Roamer cargo ships—surely, as a Manta commander, Tasia would have known about such activities. But now, realizing that a secret new mission had been kept from her, she wondered how much else was going on without her knowledge.
When she got back to her quarters with a queasy stomach brought on only partially by the sour coffee, she found a message on the roomscreen. It had a formal EDF voice log seal and a code designation from Admiral Willis. Her new assignment orders at last!
Playing the message, she saw that the maternal Admiral wore a controlled yet troubled expression. She read the orders without emotion. “Commander Tamblyn, this message is to inform you that you’ve been reassigned from your Manta. Your cruiser will henceforth be captained by Commander Ramirez, who has been promoted to take your place at the helm.”
Tasia gasped. What had she done? Why were they taking her ship