Theirs Not To Reason Why: An Officer's Duty Part 31

"Now is not the time, Admiral!" Counting down to zero, Ia twisted her whole body to s.h.i.+ft the s.h.i.+eld aside, since she couldn't move her left arm that much, and flung out her right arm. Tendrils of miniature lightning cracked down the corridor in reply before swerving back. More laserfire scored on the s.h.i.+eld, bright yellow and overcharged, darker orange and ugly. Somewhere in the corridors beyond, more guards were headed their way. They were running out of time.

Time.

The timestreams dragged her briefly under. For one moment, she ignored the lasers brightening the s.h.i.+eld not just in dots of light, but in broadening patches of peach gold color. Instead, she saw with her inner eyes a much larger box being hauled up from below, grey and ugly with the hint of impending, future mist, though it was not yet active. But the box had to come up an elevator shaft, and in that shaft were safety cables and safety latches, and a host of interior safety fields.

Ia ruthlessly ripped them out, drawing on her tenuous, laser-peppered s.h.i.+eld for enough energy to work at that distance. The startled whistles and gurgling skreels of the crew hauling that box into the elevator couldn't be heard at this distance, but the faintest of crashes as it dropped did vibrate through the floor. Twisting the s.h.i.+eld aside, this time Ia grabbed and flung shards of bloodied gla.s.s with her mind. Bodies gurgled and dropped as the slivers darted past, while doors slammed shut in their wake.

Breathing hard from the effort, Ia gathered her energy. "Right...That should do it. Everybody, move out! Viega, Jophuran, Michaels, Chong, form a rearguard. Krraul, K'sith, you're on point with me. No one gets left behind!"

The pain in her shoulder grew steadily worse. Ia had at least two splinters of gla.s.s in her right foot, making her half run, half lurch. She had only the one bite wound, but it stank of blood, both Salik and Human, as well as other things. Slowly, the shock-locked muscles of the general's jaws relaxed, allowing more of her own vital fluid to seep free.

They reached a bank of elevators, and an emergency stairwell next to it. Sweat beaded on her skin as they jogged further down into the depths of the complex. Her head swam from the effort of keeping doors and shafts sealed shut against the advance of the furious Salik forces trying to get at them. Her teeth ached, clenched tightly against the urge to groan, and her skin crawled, hyperaware of each drop of blood she was losing.

Somewhere out there, lesser generals were tracking their progress. Somewhere out there, orders were being given to set the docking bays to self-destruct. Somewhere out there, Salik technicians flung Sallhash curses at Ia's blood-streaked white hair as she slid doors open and shut, navigating them almost sightlessly all the way to the hidden gantries of two courier s.h.i.+ps. Both were visible through the thick plexi windows looking into the vast bay, suspended from gantries above rows of similar s.h.i.+ps.

One was entirely Salik in design, while the other was a captured V'Dan vessel. Unlocking both of them with a thought, Ia turned and started pus.h.i.+ng bodies randomly toward the open doors with her good hand. "Get inside and strap yourselves down! Use every s.p.a.ce you can think of! We have only two pilots, and not enough time to look for a third s.h.i.+p! No one gets left behind, got that?"

Admiral Viega pushed herself forward through the limping, bleeding bodies. She almost grabbed Ia's injured arm, but caught herself in time. Instead, she demanded, "Who is the other pilot?"

"You are, sir," Ia told her superior, flicking her hand to point people to either side. Most of her attention was focused on counter-commanding the frantic coding of the hidden base's technicians, but she spared enough awareness to look Viega in the eyes.

Viega returned that stare with fierce embarra.s.sment, hissing, "Lieutenant, I haven't piloted an OTL s.h.i.+p in fifteen years."

"Sir, do you trust me?" Ia asked. Viega blinked. Ia repeated her question with terse emphasis. "Do you trust me?"

"I...Yes, I do," Viega finally swore.

Before she could babble anything about Ia having gotten them this far, Ia clapped her fingertips to the side of the admiral's grey-haired head, holding it in place. "Then trust me, and this will work."

Stabbing into the older woman's mind, Ia laid the patterns of what must be done. Thus, and there. This and that...and just enough V'Dan to cope with these counter-possibilities. It took maybe five, six seconds of real time, though in the speed of the timestreams, Ia spent more than a minute to lay her contingencies. Releasing Viega, she nodded.

"Take K'sith with you," Ia ordered, lifting her chin at the V'Dan male helping sort the escapees into the two different s.h.i.+ps. "He knows the comm and ops, and can be your backup, even though he isn't a pilot. Do everything exactly as I have showed you, and you'll get everyone out of here. Now, get to your s.h.i.+p!"

Viega turned to go, then turned back with a scowl. "Would you stop ordering me around?"

"Would you stop lagging behind?" Ia shot back. She cut off the former Fleet Admiral with a flick of her hand. "You know as well as I do, sir, that the officer in charge of a rescue mission is the only officer in charge of said mission! Now get in the V'Dan s.h.i.+p and get ready to undock. I can only hold off the Salik techs for another five minutes before they burn enough holes through their own blast-doors to manually blow up this place!"

A tight smile quirked the corner of the older woman's mouth. "If we weren't in the middle of a rescue operation, you'd be perilously close to insubordination, Lieutenant."

"Well, I'm in a lot of pain right now, sir, so I'm perilously close to not caring. Go!" Ia ordered, lifting her chin sharply in the direction of the last of the bloodied bodies boarding the s.h.i.+p to her left. Turning, she counted heads, making sure the last of the stragglers got on board.

Everyone was making sure that everyone else got on board. Herding each other, rea.s.suring each other. Bloodied, battered, scared, but working together. The possibility of freedom had snapped even the worst of them out of their fear-generated stupors, leaving only the unconscious unable to help effect their own rescue. More stunned bodies had been found than the ones Ia had dug out-almost all of them, in fact.

Almost.

But I could only save the most important souls, the...the ones with the greatest impact...No time. No time for this! Gritting her teeth against the ache of regret, she scrubbed with the back of her right hand at the tears blurring her tired vision and followed the last of the escapees into the Salik-built courier.

Turning at the airlock, she called across to Viega, "Remember, Admiral, you have to go first. I'm the only thing keeping the enemy at bay!"

A flip of her hand was Viega's only reply. Ia let her go. Her head was starting to ache badly, enough that it was noticeable against the pain in her foot and the agony of her shoulder. Mist was beginning to close in again, and-the mist. Ia stopped in the airlock, eyes widening. They...they're cobbling together another ma.s.s anti-psi generator. It's going to block everything I do!

Her head swam with s.n.a.t.c.hes of possibilities. Forcing herself to move, attention more on skimming the timestreams than on her physical surroundings, she fumbled her way into the c.o.c.kpit. Her best choice-the one that would buy everyone in the Alliance the most time-was deceptively simple. This entire underground base was wired to explode in the event of discovery by Alliance forces. All she had to do was trigger every last one of those devices...and then hold off the final leap of the detonating electrons.

The trick was doing it under the onslaught of increasing interference from those infernal creations, holding on just long enough for all of them to escape.

Somehow, she made it to the pilot's seat, half blind from the ma.s.sive division of her attention span. The Salik version of seating wasn't comfortable, more like straddling an awkwardly curved bench than anything else, but at least the restraint harness was the same four-point strap system. The only problem was, she couldn't do it manually, not with the Salik jaws still clamped to her shoulder.

"Hey, aren't you going to strap in?" That came from the Human seated behind her and to her left. To either side sat one of the rescued Solaricans-the one with the bloodied, half-eaten tail, using her own weight for a compression bandage on its end-and the V'Dan, still wearing one of the anti-psi crowns strapped to his head.

"I can't move my left arm," Ia muttered. "And I can't exactly spare the attention. I'm juggling chain saws, tap-dancing on coals, and yodeling before a tone-deaf audience, here."

"I'll do it." Unstrapping himself, he leaned over her position, carefully strapping in three of the four points. The chunk of severed head cupping her shoulder interfered too much with the fourth strap to have placed it. The psi grimaced, but didn't try to latch that strap. "Sorry, meioa; I'm a xenopath, not a biokinetic-hang on, I'm almost out of your way..."

Ia didn't have to be able to see the console to activate it, let alone reach it. Not that touching it would have mattered; it was designed for Salik suckers, after all. Pulling and pus.h.i.+ng telekinetically on the controls, Ia started the engines, then activated the comm system, hooking it into the other vessel so she could address everyone.

"This is Lieutenant Ia. All hands strap in or wedge yourselves flat against an aft wall. We have to slingshot out of here, in order to achieve sufficient speed for OTL escape velocity. Acceleration forces will exceed 12Gs Standard for a minimum five seconds. Most of you will pa.s.s out. Some of you will suffer broken bones. I repeat, wedge yourself flat against an aft wall if you are unable to find secure seating. We have room for two K'katta on the aft wall of the c.o.c.kpit in the Salik vessel. Admiral Viega, launch the second you are ready. Ia out."

The door to the c.o.c.kpit slid open. Two K'katta scuttled inside and climbed up the back wall, using both the freefall handholds and the projecting corners of the various instruments to cling to the surface. Their multilegged knees projected past the edges of two of the three seats, with their torsos not quite wedged in place.

The V'Dan, strapped back into his seat, winced and lifted a hand to his metal-wrapped brow. "Sh'kathek v'shakk! It's coming back-that machine is coming back online. I'm not even plugged into it, and it's getting to me!"

She could feel her control starting to waver, her sphere of influence slipping at the farthest edges. Ia flicked on the comm again. "Viega, you have three seconds to launch, mark!"

The other s.h.i.+p disengaged from its docking pylons. So did Ia's. Unlike the V'Dan vessel, which dropped down onto the launch cradle on automatic, Ia piloted her s.h.i.+p manually. Or rather, in a mix of telekinetics and electrokinetics. Positioning it right behind the V'Dan vessel, she fired the forward pair of grapples, clamping onto the back of the other s.h.i.+p. That caused both s.h.i.+ps to jolt, but the launch cradle holding the V'Dan s.h.i.+p didn't show any signs of strain.

"Lieutenant, what the h.e.l.l are you doing?" Viega demanded over the comm. "You are not the reincarnation of s.h.i.+koku Yama!"

"No time, Admiral," Ia shot back, warming the thrusters. The edges of effective range on her psychic abilities slipped further, contracting abruptly. She pushed as hard as she could to the front, striving to hold off the enemy long enough for them to escape. "Launch!"

Light flared beyond the observation windows. Both s.h.i.+ps finished descending into the launch tunnel and started moving forward, one by machinery, the other by tow and by thruster fields. The ping-ting-tang vibrating back down the cables to the Salik vessel rose in volume, an eerie aural counterpoint to the thrumming of the engines. If those cables snapped at the wrong moment up ahead, what she had done to the Salik capital s.h.i.+p would be done to them. Yet if she accelerated too much at the wrong moment, she would drive the nose of this s.h.i.+p up the backside of the other, cracking both vessels wide open. The probabilities were not all that good.

Surrendering to the racing flow of Time, Ia let her precognition pull her under. The cradle snapped forward, launching the V'Dan vessel. The Salik s.h.i.+p roared with the pulse of att.i.tude jets as well as thruster fields, the twin cables jerking the s.h.i.+p that much father. A frantic corner of her mind programmed the controls with autopilot instructions, but most of the rest was focused on holding back the explosions brightening the windows of the observation bays.

Behind them, the windows exploded, billowing atmosphere and fire into the launch tunnel they had just left. Giving up, Ia released her hold on the self-destruct mechanisms; it was too late to stop their escape. They launched into the great chamber, thrust so hard at the end by the cradle that the edges of Ia's physical vision blackened and drained.

"Opening the rift!" Viega shouted over the comm, her voice showing the strain of her fight to stay conscious under the heavy pull of their velocity. Sparks shot forward from the lead s.h.i.+p, arrowing in and impacting together in a collision of spinning, exotic, highly charged particles. Both s.h.i.+ps, one flying right behind the other, cables ever so slightly slack, vanished into the swirling maw that opened in the middle of the vast, vacuum-drained chamber.

Time warped and jolted. Nausea and fever flushed through Ia's body, forcing blood out through her teeth-punctured wounds, weakening her in a head-spinning rush. It wasn't a lengthy jump; maybe five seconds at most, just far enough to get them to the next star system.

Ia had implanted the exact coordinates for one of the nearest Blockade Fleet stations in Viega's mind, one that had the facilities to treat all the races of the Alliance. She had also programmed her s.h.i.+p to reverse its thrusters the moment they emerged, slowing both vessels before they could race past the giant, spine-covered, ceristeel-plated egg. Thankfully, the cables held; they creaked and groaned, the strain vibrating palpably between the two vessels, but they held.

She knew they had to get the s.h.i.+ps docked. The problem was that the cabin spun every time she opened her eyes, making it difficult for Ia to concentrate. Waves of heat flushed through her body, leaving behind contracting muscles that shuddered and ached. Spots studded her skin, and her shoulder was visibly swollen and red. Everything hurt so much, she wanted to cry. But there were over three dozen sentients crammed into this s.h.i.+p, many of them suffering from OTL-shocked injuries of their own.

There was no way the others on board could dock this s.h.i.+p; it would be too dangerous for them to try. Struggling against the disorientation, the fever and exhaustion, Ia focused her thoughts down onto the exact sequence of steps needed. The first step was closing her eyes to block out the distraction of sight. She could hear Viega broadcasting on the comms that they were two s.h.i.+ps full of escapees in need of immediate medical aid, so that was one of her other concerns handled.

The next step was to release the grappling clamps; if things went sour, and there was too high a probability that they would, the last thing Viega would need was a deadheaded s.h.i.+p right on her tail, not if it had been fifteen years since the other woman had last piloted anything. A flick of Ia's mind managed that much, leaving the cables trailing ahead of them, but the effort increased the dizziness in her head. Belatedly, Ia realized most of her kinetic inergy, the fuel for her gifts, was pouring into her biokinesis, trying to keep her septic infection at bay.

Slag...this is going to cost me...Focusing tighter, she opened the comm, broadcasting to the Solarican Battle Platform. "This is Lieutenant First Grade Ia...TUPSF-Navy, requesting emergency sentientarian aid. I am...I am piloting the Salik vessel. I am going to attempt to dock at Krrim Rau...gantry 17, but I will need help. I am injured and suffering...from OTL-accelerated septic shock. Some sort of...Sallha-native bacteria."

Her concentration wavered. Every time she shuddered, the force of her contracting muscles ground the teeth of that lower jaw deeper into her shoulder blade. Ia struggled to remember what she was supposed to be doing.

"We have...thirty-eight injured on board this vessel. I repeat, I am...dock at Krrim Rau 17, and...need grappling." Nausea welled up, threatening to escape her throat in a most unpleasant manner. She swallowed, panting. "I...don't feel so good..."

"Lieutenant, hang in there!" she heard Viega order. "You dock that s.h.i.+p, Lieutenant Ia! You hear me? That's an order, sailor!"

A hand cupped her forehead. It was the V'Dan male, offering her a very precious, very intimate gift. (Take my energy; I offer it freely. If you're strong enough to do everything you just did for us,) he told her, (then I know you can take it and use it-take it! I'm Pathic, not Kinetic. It's a Saints-d.a.m.ned Salik s.h.i.+p. I can't fly this thing for you!) "Lieutenant, you are deadheading past the Solarican Warstation! Don't you dare give up on me, b.l.o.o.d.y Mary, not here, not now! Stop your drifting and dock that G.o.dd.a.m.n s.h.i.+p!"

Ia latched onto the KI of her fellow psychic. Vaguely aware of his unrestrained state, she flexed the dregs of her third strongest gift, her electrokinesis. The thrusters hummed in a faint, pulsing rumble, altering their drift.

"Sallik Courrrier, this is Warstation Nnying Yanh. Corrrect yourr course to Krrim Rau 22," the Battle Platform instructed her, naming a different docking gantry. "We have salllvage crew already in place for that gantrry. Slow speed and preparrre for grappling."

Another nudge of her mind swayed them in that direction. It took most of her strength-hers and the inner energy donated from the V'Dan at her side-to slow the courier. The moment everything lined up, Ia poured all of her spare energy into her mental walls. The V'Dan took that as his signal to let go of her forehead, moving back to his chair.

He grunted as the grapple pods struck the courier, jolting it hard enough to knock him into the waiting alien seat. The blow also dug the teeth into Ia's upper back a little harder. Teeth clenched tight, m.u.f.fling her groan, Ia forced her body to stop trying to heal itself. As life-threatening as septic shock might be, leaving her precognitive gifts unlocked and unguarded was the far greater threat. Physicians and paraphysicians would have to physically touch her to treat her injuries and cleanse the bacteria infecting her blood. She could not, dared not allow the timeplains to drag them under, not while she wasn't coherent.

Even with modern medicine throttling the death rate down to a fraction of a percent, it still would take weeks to recover from sepsis. Knowing the Solaricans would reel in her s.h.i.+p, that she and the others would receive enough medical care to survive, Ia focused on wrapping her mind into a tight, protective little sh.e.l.l. It took the last dregs of her strength, but that was alright. She had successfully saved all the lives that she could, and that was all that mattered.

For the moment, the timestreams were safe. For the moment, she could rest.

SEPTEMBER 1, 2495 T.S.

SOLARICAN WARSTATION NNYING YANH.

SALHAIT SYSTEM.

Nnnyaaao, wann yan sieeeeh, Llun guon yiell-yoowoou Iiieh! Iiieh! Rrrral ff'tah Kundieh, kundieeeh, ff'tah Gun rr'liiiehh nyielloouuu!

Twaaan l'ooo wau-urgahhh Llun guon yan-miii-iiiehhh Iiieh! Iiieh! Rrrra- "What the h.e.l.l is that infernal racket, Lieutenant?"

Expecting his arrival, Ia looked up to see Rear Admiral Duj, commanding officer of Battle Platform Mad Jack, standing in the doorway of her infirmary room. Behind him were two aides, plus the Solarican doctor treating Ia's condition. The noise he referred to was not the faint hum of the dialysis machine, nor the rhythmic beeping of the scanners monitoring her condition. The yowling he referred to came from the radio commchannel built into the frame of her infirmary bed.

"It's Solarican singing, sir." Arm somewhat hampered by the intravenous tubing strapped to it, Ia politely turned off the broadcast she had been enjoying.

Between the feeds for the dialysis machine on her right arm and the regen-packs strapped to her left, she didn't have much mobility at the moment. At least the cuff of her crysium bracelet-and-sword was back down around her right ankle once more. Ia lifted her burdened arm a little higher in indication before lowering it back to her gown-covered lap.

"Please forgive me for not saluting, Admiral. I'm a little tied up at the moment. Or rather, tied down," Ia quipped. "Unfortunately, modern medicine can't cure everything immediately."

"You're forgiven," he stated crisply, approaching her bed. "But only for that much. After reviewing all the reports we've collected over the last five days regarding your little escapade, you are in so much trouble, soldier, that I cannot...even...Doctor, why are you growling at me?"

"You arrre about to strrress my patient, Humann," the Solarican answered, his voice low, his mane half fluffed. "I have finnally contrrolled her blood prrressure. You will nnot aggravate it."

"It's okay, Doctor Miian," Ia rea.s.sured the alien. She didn't pretend ignorance as to the purpose of the admiral's visit. The time for pretending was finally over, even if there was still some need for discretion on certain subjects. "He's just posturing. He can't actually do anything to me."

That earned her a hard look from her superior. "You are perilously-"

"Perilously close to insubordination," Ia interrupted him. "Yes, sir, I've heard that before. Specifically while rescuing your superior, Admiral Viega. Would you like to know what that song was about?" she asked, changing the subject. From the blink Duj gave her, it threw him out of his plans to half threaten her. She forged ahead while he was still trying to s.h.i.+ft mental gears to keep up with her. "That was a war song. In specific, a war song about me. It's one of the highest points of praise a Solarican can bestow upon another, to compose and perform a song praising their deeds.

"In specific, it was the fifth brand-new song I've heard about me since I woke up today, Admiral," she stated dryly. "That's not counting the three from yesterday, and the three the day before that. I don't know if there were any others before that point, since I was still a bit out of it from the sepsis-fever. But that still makes eleven songs, and the day is barely half over. What that means, Admiral, is that I am a war hero to these people.

"In the face of such open and widespread admiration, not to mention the doctor's legitimately expressed concerns," Ia told him, nodding briefly at the waiting, ginger-colored physician, "perhaps it would be more diplomatically useful if you dropped the posturing and spoke only of what really brought you all the way out here from your post, sir?"

For a moment, it looked as if the rear admiral's blood pressure would be a concern, rather than hers. He drew in a deep breath after a few seconds, letting it out slowly before he spoke.

"Very well. If you insist on playing it that way, Lieutenant, I am here to interrogate you on exactly what you did on Sallha, and how you did it. You are charged with Fatality One, Committing a Civilian Crime, via the failure to register your abilities as a psychic, and...Why are you laughing, Lieutenant?" he asked her, dark brown eyes narrowing. "Do you think these accusations are a joke?"

Chuckling, Ia shook her head, rustling the synthetic fibers stuffed into the Solarican-style pillow supporting her head. This wasn't the best time for her sense of humor to rear itself, but she did find it amusing. Sobering slightly, she smiled wryly. "Oh, but I am registered, Admiral. I have been registered as a psychic since I was a young child. And that registry is listed in my military records. I listed it the day I joined the s.p.a.ce Force as a recruit in the Marines. It's hardly my fault that the details behind that listing have been overlooked for so long."

His mouth opened and closed. For a moment, Duj was utterly speechless, then he flipped open the lid of his arm unit, no doubt to call up her file.

"You'll find what you seek under my religious affiliations, sir. As you will see, I am listed in my Service file as an ordained priestess of the Witan Order, Zen.o.bian Sect, as duly registered on my homeworld. By charter, all duly ordained members of the Zen.o.bian Sect, whether they're naturally psychic or simply trained, must undergo basic psi training as well as religious instruction. To maintain their rank in the Order-including my rank-we must undergo the same yearly ethical exams required of all duly registered psychics...whether or not we have any.

"By the Terran charter, as a psychic, I am required to be registered with a duly authorized organization. Such as the Witan Order, which includes its subsects. By the s.p.a.ce Force charter, I am required to list proof of that registration on my Service record...which I have done...and by both charters, I am required to undergo yearly ethical examinations. Which are all on record with my Order, undertaken and filed every nine to eleven months, depending on when I could meet up with my examiners. Those examinations place me well within the mandatory once-a-year examinations required by law."

He swapped his attention between her file and her face as she spoke, a frown pinching his dusky brow.

"For the record, sir-and you can subpoena those records from the Zen.o.bian Sect, if you like," Ia added, "I have undergone yearly ethical testing since I was a young child. Admittedly I had to have my fellow psis come out from Sanctuary to meet with me for my yearly examinations once I enlisted, but I have been duly examined each and every year...and I have pa.s.sed my ethical examinations, each and every year. Any court-civilian or military-would be forced to drop that charge the moment they looked at all the facts of the matter. Fatality One does not apply, sir."

"But you cannot deny that you have hidden your abilities from your superiors," Admiral Duj countered.

Ia flicked another glance at the Solarican. "Not from all of them, sir. But with respect, sir, that's a matter of internal security. It is not something that should be discussed while I am under constant surveillance by foreign medical service-and before you try to arrange it, Admiral, no, I cannot be moved back to the Mad Jack just yet. I cannot even walk to the head on my own without the risk of falling down, right now."

"Sepsis is too danngerrous to meddle with durinng the rrrecovery phase," the Solarican doctor growled. Admiral Duj turned to face the felinoid as he continued. "If she is not fully curred before leaving our constant surrveilllance and care, she could rrrrelapse and nnot know it untilll it is too late. I will not be the doctorrr who allowed the Herrrro of the Banquet to die because I did nnot do my job."

"Doctor Miian is considered one of the foremost specialists in Human medicine within the entire Blockade Fleet," Ia stated quietly. "Even among Human doctors, he has a stellar reputation for successfully treating our kind. As soon as the medical staff realized how bad my condition was, they put him on my case, as well as five of the others. Any doctor on board the Mad Jack who knows anything about this doctor's reputation would agree that we're in extremely competent hands...and they will tell you that in cases of OTL-accelerated bacteremia sepsis, there is no such thing as being too cautious or too careful."

"We arrre still growinng her a new pair of kidneys, and have alrrready replaced her spleen," Miian stated, lacing his claw-tipped fingers in front of his chest. He licked his lips and attempted to speak more clearly in Terranglo, though some of the rolled consonants still came through. "The next trransplant will take place in two days. Thenn she will undergo a two-day rrrecovery period before beginning physical therrapy. Given she is a heavyworrlder like us, the rrrecovery rate is more than double the stanndard, as we will be moving her to the grrravity acclimation ward to slowly help her rrregain her strength. Her healllth must be carrrefully monitored to make sure she does nnot rrelapse."

Duj glanced between the Solarican in the doorway and the Human on the bed. His two aides were carefully looking elsewhere, trying not to catch their superior's attention. Duj finally focused his attention on Ia. "Do not a.s.sume you will escape that interrogation, Lieutenant. You will recover."

"I know that, sir...but it won't be conducted by you, Admiral," she told him. There was no need right now to keep silent on the facts of the near future, and a need to prove to the rear admiral that she knew that near future. "The Terran s.p.a.ce Force has already received two requests for intergovernmental recognition of my actions on Sallha, including a directive from the Empress of the Solaricans. More are coming in from the other alien governments as we speak. Four days from now, arrangements will be made across the diplomatic channels for an Alliance-wide commendation ceremony, which will take place in eight days.

"Six days from now, the Command Staff of the s.p.a.ce Force will order me to report to them in person on Earth as soon as I am healthy enough to travel, to give them a full accounting of all my actions, and in specific, all my motivations for joining the s.p.a.ce Force. But I probably won't be judged healthy enough to endure the rigors of travel for at least two more weeks beyond the ceremony, and not back to my full health for a month. Your visit is appreciated, and a testament to your willingness to defend the letter of s.p.a.ce Force law, sir," she concluded, closing her eyes. "But your orders as they currently stand will not be the same by the time I'm healthy enough to be questioned."

"You seem to be responding just fine to my questions right now," he pointed out.

A snort escaped her. Ia pried open her eyes again, glancing his way. "My will is astronomically strong, Admiral, but my reserves are dangerously low. Just because I lasted all seven days of Marine Corps h.e.l.l Week doesn't mean I didn't pay for it by the end. I was healthy at the time, back in Basic. This time, I'm most definitely not. I have maybe ten more minutes before I'll end up falling asleep again...and that's pretty much all I have been doing."