Wincing, Karim stepped back and sat down on the bench lining the wall of the interrogation room.

  “Admiral?” asked Chaasker.

  He had dozens of concerns that stacked everso messily on his plate, most of which was the whale of the blinking signal that claimed to be Solar in origin. So much had happened in the last day to shift his first admiralty into a mockery of what he’d hoped it to be. Were the venerable Admiral Kaur around to see this, Karim was sure she would see some of his father’s weakness showing through. No matter what was stacking up against him now, one problem was inescapable.

  “Corporal,” he said to Chaasker, the pain of his broken ribs suddenly overwhelming. “Fetch a medic.”

  It was several hours before he woke again in his private quarters surrounded by medical equipment. The gravity generator was on, pushing him into bed with a comforting invisible hand. Karim knew why. He had been negligent in the aftermath of the Sonne weapon battery’s attack on his ship.

  The Kolkata had been struck, it was wounded, and he had tended to hunting its assailants rather than licking his own wounds. For he too was wounded, and the broken ribs and gash across his head, made worse in his constant movements in and out of areas of active gravity in the ship, had reached a tipping point.

  Thankfully, Chaasker’s haste on a bulletin had saved him with a team of doctors composed of the best surgeons of the fleet. He lifted his bed sheet to see bandages and curious to see the true extent of the damage, he fingered through the medical report with numb fingertips on his terminal that someone had left just in reach beside him on the bed.

  In the five hours he had been out, he had been opened up and his ribs stitched back in place using a printed protein and his skin microweaved back together. He had also been connected up with a drip of powerful sedatives that explained his lack of sensation for anything below his collar. At the end of the report it listed his expected recovery time in weeks.

  Running his hand over his face he found the gash on his cheek had been stitched too, his facial hair carefully preserved with only the skin gingerly mended underneath. Karim lay back again on his bed and let out a huff, his long hair, freshly washed, was splayed about his pillow and down the bedside.

  Now, in his state he realised what had occurred in his brief incapacitation. Fleet protocol demanded that his command be commuted to another, that other being Commodore der Waals. Karim shuddered at the idea.

  He didn’t doubt the man’s ability to command somewhat effectively, as he had done so in this area of space prior to The Third Fleet’s formation. What made his skin crawl was that der Waals, not him, was in charge of the investigating and tracking down the pirates, a matter his dirty fingers had been all over from the very beginning.

  “Admiral Ashok?” said a familiar voice by the door. Chaasker entered, a sorrowful expression on her face– something Karim had yet to see her break professionalism for. “Oh thank god you’re alright Admiral. You had me worried.”

  “I’m fine Corporal,” he said, fighting another wince, “what’s become of my fleet?”

  “Commodore der Waals is in charge.”

  Karim nodded.

  “He’s ordered no further contact with the prisoners. No boots on The Yesteryear either. He’s also had Slavoi lock that device up and throw away the key.” Karim suddenly remembered the landmine that was the device pointing to Earth.

  “Do you think it’s genuine–” Karim asked her, “–the signal’s origin being Sol System?”

  Chaasker considered that. “Doctor Quichek seems convinced, and I don’t take that man as a liar. A bit lacking in social skills, but not a liar.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Karim said. “It’s his dutiful zeal that has me concerned.”

  He wasn’t sure if it was the sedatives or not, but for some reason it felt good to let his suspicions known to someone other than himself.

  “Do you believe the Commodore is not acting in the fleet’s best interest?” Chaasker asked. If she was surprised by his candour, her face betrayed nothing.

  Karim pressed a button on his terminal which adjusted the angle of his hospital bed bringing him nearly upright. As the bed slowly lifted him he didn’t feel pain, but rather a dull sensation that left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “I’ve had you and Special Projects looking into der Waals and a potential link to these pirates for several weeks now, surely you’ve wondered why?”

  “I try to reserve conjectures to myself, Admiral. It’s not my place to question a Commodore,” Chaasker said with practised grace.

  “I can respect that, Corporal,” Karim said. “I have come to believe that der Waals, his compatriot Fawes, and an unknown quantity of others are directly responsible for the pirate’s appearance and subsequent armament. Their motives in doing this remain elusive.”

  “And now he’s in charge,” said Chaasker, earning a nod from Karim.

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  “Best we can do now is focus on getting me out of this hospital bed. The sooner I’m back on my feet, the quicker I retake command. Tell me, what has become of the Special Projects division?”

  “Gone dark. Special Projects remains a secret for now. Though, I don’t know how much longer we can keep that up now that it’s insubordination.”

  “Thank you,” Karim said, “Hopefully I’ll be on the mend soon and we can put this all behind us.”

  “Admiral, do you think he would let that happen– let you retake his station for a second time?”

  “I do believe that if putting me out of commission was part of his plans, then I would have never made it to the recovery ward. No, what I suspect is that me being in command was where he wanted me all along.”

  “A patsy?” Chaasker asked, pain appearing on her face at the insinuation.

  Maybe it was a similarity in the shearness of their faces, or if sharing with her somehow reminded Karim of a time where he shared all of his thoughts and concerns with his grandmother, but he could hear the words of Admiral Kaur at the back of his mind say: “Remember, always look for snakes before you step.”

  “Maybe,” Karim admitted, “but that might just be a trap I’ll have to walk into. Corporal, why don’t you go fetch the doctor. A slight bit of careful wording on my part might just reduce the number of weeks I have to spend with my feet up.”

  Before Chaasker could leave however, an unfamiliar chime sounded on Karim’s terminal. His brow stiffened as a bulletin appeared on screen preceded by an almost theatrical unfurling display of the sigil of the Sovereignty’s Grand Council. Without prompting, the bulletin opened revealing its contents in powerfully plain language. At the top it bore the subject: Summons to Appear before The Council. Scanning the document Karim could see the true meaning of it in drab legalease; he was being recalled. At the document’s foot was the unmistakable signature of his friend, his liege, Karess Margit Baldasare herself.

  Concern grew on Chaasker’s face.

  How could he have been so foolish? It was then that a certain round block found its way into a similarly round slot at the back of his brain that brought with it the understanding he had been searching for. That snake der Waals had strung him along for weeks, biding his time for another to pay for his own mistakes. Some benefactor of der Waals had had a hand in this. His naming as Admiral effectively sent him upriver in an attempt to bury whatever foolish schemes they had wrought in the dark. Chaasker was right, Karim found himself a patsy, his fare for the ferryman bought and paid for.

  Karim sighed. “Get back to your station, Corporal. There’s no need to hang around for what’s to come.”

  Chaasker saluted and reluctantly left for the door, her zeal for him as her commander unfettered despite his oncoming fall from grace. Sure enough, as she stepped into the corridor she was dumbfounded as she came face to face with an oncoming der Waals.

  Lior der Waals stepped in with an indiscernible grin.

  “So,” he said through his teeth, “I can tell by the devastation across your face that you got the same news as I.”

  “Indignant as ever, Lior. Nice to see you too,” he said, choosing to drop all niceties.

  “My my, that’s not how I would address the commander of The Third Fleet,” said der Waals. “Though in your weakened state I am willing to let that slide.”

  Karim audibly scoffed. “So what then, Commander– are we packing in the mission?”

  “It was you that was recalled, not I,” said der Waals.

  Karim narrowed his eyes and smiled. Der Waals’ jubilant expression quickly soured. Karim grabbed his terminal and thumbed through the summons to find a particular passage and handed it over to der Waals.

  “I can see you’re confused, Lior. Let me read it for you,” he said. “By decree of Karess Margit Baldasare, The Grand Council hereby… ending the mission laid out herein… and recalling The Kolkata, flagship of the Third Fleet, and its commanding officer. With me in this bed that illustrious honour falls on your lap.”

  “Hospital bed or not, you’re The Kolkata’s commander, not I.”

  “Think carefully, Commodore,” Karim said, slowing his words, “A fleet commander’s place is aboard the flagship.”

  Der Waals let out a huff, furrowing his upper lip.

  There it was, Karim thought, this was der Waals’ hidden card.

  “And what if I name another Fleet Commander?” said der Waals, fumbling for a workaround.

  “Who, Fawes?” Karim asked, “A bold move, selling out your allies and diminishing yourself in one fell swoop. Would we leave you here then, magistrate of this point of black?”

  “The Third Fleet does not need to accompany a wounded ship and it’s former Admiral all the way back to the other side of Sovereignty space. I don’t need to explain myself to you, but it’s mission is here, tracking down Aiden and his brigandes, finding their hideout. I’m positive The Council would see it the same way. You may have me tied to this drowning vessel, but Captain Fawes and the rest of the fleet can continue in my absence.”

  “Again, you forget yourself Lior. If you check seniority I’m sure you’ll find that Captain Mostro, not Captain Fawes, holds more seniority. I don’t fault you for not noticing that one, it wasn’t until very recently– with the loss of Captain Vermalen and The Relentless, that that was the case.”

  Der Waals began to fume and leaned away from him as if holding himself back. He knew and Karim knew that Mostro had little love for der Waals position, and would not so easily be twisted like his lackey Fawes.

  “I’m glad you brought that up. I have half a mind to have you court martialed for The Relentless’ destruction. Twenty-two officers are missing, presumed lost. You need to be held accountable for your severe lapse in judgement.”

  “And as The Kolkata’s commanding officer,” Karim started, savouring every word, “you have that right.”

  He knew he was poking a starving bear, a man barely hinged. At this point however, Karim knew there was little der Waals could do to him that would have much staying power. Well, he thought, aside from having him spaced.

  “I expect the raking The Council has planned for you will be far more gratifying.”

  Karim nodded, unable to stop a smirk from appearing.

  “The Third Fleet is headed home then,” der Waals said, barely masked defeat on his breath.

  “Looks that way,” Karim admitted.

  “In the meantime, I order you to grant my staff access to the ISI’s inner protocols. That cretin Bruin Backen won’t divulge anything since last you spoke with him.”

  That was interesting, Karim hadn’t been aware of any such locks on the ISI before now. Maybe Chaasker had enacted something while he was unconscious.

  “Is that so?” Karim asked. “I’m afraid I’m at a loss to any locks on the ISI. I’m not the one who locked it.”

  Without anything to do but scoff and threaten, der Waals, commander of the recalled fleet, ordered all ships to finish what repairs were needed to get them underway. Within a few hours, Karim comfortably alone in his hospital bed, felt a sudden pressure that pushed him into his pillow as it’s inbuilt upgrav ramped up as the Kolkata leapt out of the system and started the weeks long journey that led straight back to Hirok and to where this all started.