Fitzpatrick commiserated, but held his silence. Given his blue-blood heritage, the kid had expected to advance his military career with a few helpful nudges and memos directed to the appropriate commanding officers. Without a doubt, he had been promoted faster than his skill warranted, but he had met the challenges well enough.

In wartime, not even the richest, most pampered officer candidate received a useless assignment. Fitzpatrick wanted to appear in publicity photos, standing tall in his fine uniform so that his family could reap the political benefits of their son's bravery, "an upstanding example of civic duty in this time of crisis." And the General could take advantage of that, as long as Fitzpatrick didn't do anything embarrassing.

"Actually, I have a suggestion, sir."

"If you can tell me how to win this war, Commander, I'll promote you on the spot to the rank of Brigadier General."

Fitzpatrick gave a thin smile. "Maybe it won't win the war, General, but it may help to alleviate your restlessness. Why not command one of the scout fleets yourself? Go out for a month on recon, keep your eyes open. Justify it by saying you need firsthand intelligence about what's happening out there." His grin widened. "The Hansa can announce that the safety of its citizens takes such high priority that the General of the EDF himself is going to upgrade the security procedures and assess the enemy threat."

"Good political mileage," Lanyan said.

Fitzpatrick gestured toward the cluttered desk. "This isn't for you, sir. Leave the bureaucratic duties to Admiral Stromo. He's been no good as a line officer since the defeat at Jupiter."

"Don't disrespect your superior officers, Commander."

The young man lowered his voice, but he was obviously not accustomed to being subordinate to anyone. "We're alone in your office, General, and you know perfectly well that I'm telling the truth."

"Yes I do, dammit." Lanyan looked with disgust at all the memos waiting to be signed. He hadn't faced an important decision in six months. It would be a pleasure to delegate them all to "Stay-at-Home" Stromo. "All right, I'll take your advice, Fitzpatrick. Arrange for me to lead the next scout wing due to be dispatched."

"That would be in Grid 3, sir."

"Good enough. I'll let Admiral Stromo take care of this crap." He smiled without humor. "Maybe it'll be enough of a punishment to snap him out of his funk."

After two weeks on patrol cruising around the systems of Grid 3, General Lanyan realized that it felt no better to wander around in empty space doing nothing than to sit at a desk on Mars doing nothing.

The ekti shortages had reduced space traffic to the barest trickle, and the scout fleet encountered no Hansa ships or Ildiran vessels. On the bridge of his borrowed Juggernaut, Lanyan let out a long sigh. "Looks like the Spiral Arm has closed down for the season."

Beside him, Fitzpatrick nodded. "Normal trade is pretty much at a standstill. The colonies are left bare-assed in a cold wind."