Governments can take forever to reach a decision, even when it is blindingly obvious what needs to be done. Once the decision is made, however, things can move fast. General Brenner called me into his temporary office in Paris. He looked busy, with a string of senior officers in and out of his office, but they all got shooed away when I arrived with Skippy. "Bishop, I'll get right to the point. We're sending the Dutchman out with an international crew," a sour looked flashed across his face, "I need to know if you're going."

"What? Sir, I mean, yes, absolutely. I promised Skippy that I'd go find this Collective. I made a deal, and I'm going to keep our end of the bargain." Whether I had been authorized to make such a deal was a worthless fucking question that the Monday morning quarterbacks could argue about. "Are you going to command the mission, sir?" I figured that, international crew or not, an American was going to be in command of the mission. Brenner, or an Air Force general, or a Navy admiral. The Army had never commanded a starship, but neither had any of the other armed services, and I was, of course, pulling for Army to get the honor. Hooah.

"No, Bishop, I won't be aboard, I've got enough shit to take care of down here, cleaning up the mess, and making sure nobody takes advantage of the chaos to get adventurous. You'll be in command."

"Sir?"

Brenner reached into a drawer, pulled out a small cardboard box and slid it across the table to me. "Put these eagles back on, we're reinstating your field promotion to colonel, for this mission. Don't let it go to your head."

"Sir?" Yes, I sounded stupid, but you would too if you'd been surprised like that. My promotion on Paradise had been a publicity stunt for the benefit of the Kristang, and everyone knew it. This was the Army Chief of Staff telling me I was a colonel again, for real this time.

"Get used to it, Colonel Bishop. The Joint Chiefs discussed it with the President. If we put anyone else in command, it becomes a fight over national prestige, and we don't have time for that. Frankly, your lack of experience doesn't mean a damn thing, because no one else has any experience commanding a starship."

"That's a fact, Jack!" Skippy spoke up for the first time. I had him in a backpack, which made no difference, he could have been at the bottom of the ocean and listened in on my conversations.

"And no one else has experience dealing with that shithead, either." Brenner said with a frown, but the side of his mouth went up to let me know he knew how to deal with Skippy also. He handed me a piece of paper. "This is a list of volunteers for your crew."