“After you, Admiral.” The major spoke almost courteously and flicked a nod at the conference room door. Styles stared at him a moment longer, then darted one dazed look around the conference room only to see unwavering support for Honor on every other face, and all life seemed to ooze out of him. He turned without another word and shuffled out, followed by LaFollet, and the door closed silently behind them.

“I apologize for that unseemly episode,” Honor said to the officers still seated around the conference table. “If I’d dealt with the situation more effectively sooner, I could have avoided such an undignified confrontation.”

“Don’t apologize, Admiral Harrington.” Jesus Ramirez used her rank title with quiet emphasis. “Every military organization in the galaxy has its share of fools who manage to get promoted far beyond their abilities.”

“Perhaps.” Honor drew a deep breath, more than a little ashamed of herself now that LaFollet had marched Styles off. Whatever Ramirez might say, she knew she could have handled things better than this. At the very least, she could have ordered Styles to place himself under quarters-arrest after any of a dozen earlier, less virulent confrontations. She hadn’t had to let it get to this stage, or to humiliate him so utterly in front of others, and she wondered if she’d let it go so far deliberately. She knew how badly a part of her had wanted to crush him like a worm. Had her subconscious always hoped the opportunity to act as she just had would eventually present itself if she just gave him enough rope?

She didn’t know… but she suspected she wouldn’t have liked the truth if she had.

She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply once more, then made herself put Styles’ fate out of her mind. She would have to return to it eventually, for she’d meant exactly what she said. Whatever her own motives, she simply could not let this most recent behavior pass, and she had more than enough witnesses—not simply to this episode, but to others—to guarantee that his career was over. The Judge Advocate General might allow him to resign rather than prosecute, given the circumstances which had put him on Hell for so long, but either way he would be disgraced, dishonored, and ruined. Yet she couldn’t let herself be distracted by that just now, and her expression was calm when she opened her eyes once more.

“Whatever my opinion of Styles may be,” she said calmly, “he did make at least two accurate statements. If I hold Krashnark here, I deliberately turn down a chance to alert the rest of the Alliance to the situation on Hell, and I may be wrong about their ability and readiness to cut loose the forces needed to lift us off this planet. Even if I’m not, my action will effectively make that decision for them, without ever giving them the opportunity to consider it. And he’s also right that holding her throws away the near certain chance of getting two or three thousand people to safety in Alliance space.”