The touchpad beeped almost instantly, and she turned to look over her shoulder at the lieutenant serving as boat bay officer.

“Last man, Sir!” she announced. “Everyone’s confirmed aboard.”

The lieutenant nodded and bent over his com.

· · • · ·

“The last evac ship is underway, Sir,” Captain Justin Tasco told Admiral Santino. He knew his voice sounded flat and unnatural, yet he couldn’t seem to do anything about it. He’d tried to argue with Santino only to be chopped off with a violence as extreme as it was sudden and unexpected. Now he was trapped by his own duty, his own responsibilities, and knowing it was stupid did absolutely nothing to change any of it.

“Good,” Santino said, and his broad face smiled fiercely on the small com screen linking Tasco to Hadrian’s flag bridge. Then the admiral’s smile faded. “You got that bi—” He clamped his jaws and drew a deep breath. “Commander Jaruwalski is off the ship?” he demanded after a moment.

“Yes, Sir,” Tasco said woodenly. He’d been Vice Admiral Hennesy’s flag captain for two years and worked closely with Jaruwalski all that time, but he was only a captain and Santino was an admiral, and the Articles of War forbade “comments detrimental to the authority of superior officers,” so he couldn’t tell the fatheaded, pig-ignorant fool what he really thought of him. “Our pinnace put her aboard Cantrip eighteen minutes ago.”

“Excellent, Justin! In that case, put us on course and let’s get underway.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Tasco said flatly, and began giving orders.

Despite his relatively junior rank, Gaines was able to fast-talk his way into the heavy cruiser’s CIC on the basis of his status as the senior sensor officer for Seaford Station. Or at least my recent status as SO, he thought with graveyard humor as the ship’s assistant tactical officer nodded him into the compartment and then waved him back out of the way. Gaines found a position against a bulkhead from which he could see the master plot’s holo sphere and took a moment to orient himself to the smaller display. Then he stiffened in shock.

“What the—?!” He shook his head and leaned forward, watching in horror as the main body of the system picket began to move at last. Not to escort the ships detailed for evacuation clear of the system, but to advance towards the Peeps!

“What the hell do they think they’re doing?” he muttered.

“They think they’re going to ‘distract’ the enemy,” a drained-sounding soprano said from beside him, and he turned his head quickly. The dark-haired, hawk-faced woman wore a skinsuit with commander’s insignia and the name Jaruwalski, Andrea on its breast, and her eyes were the weariest, most defeated-looking eyes Gaines had ever seen.

“What do you mean, ‘distract’?” he asked her, and she turned her head to look at him with a considering air. Then she shrugged.

“Are you familiar with the term ‘For the honor of the flag,’ Lieutenant?”