“Board Supervisor, with all respect, I’m going to need more time to assemble my people and equip them for—”

“Then rather than sitting there thinking up excuses as to why you can’t accomplish your mission, your time might be better spent achieving it.” Her grim smile stretched her facial scars. “Or would you rather that I relieved you under the incompetence clause and placed Lieutenant Malanda Tomolo in charge?”

Creamer—face like a wooden mask—jerked to his feet, saluting. “Deploying now, Board Supervisor!”

He clicked his heels as he rotated and stalked out of the photonic com’s reception.

Kalico leaned back, laced her fingers together with a sense of satisfaction. Soukup, even if he realized the implications, couldn’t stop the deployment. Nor could he question her reasons for training her marines in survival skills.

Wasn’t more than ten seconds before Margo Abibi settled herself into the command chair aboard Turalon’s AC, an amused smile on her lips. “Did you just commandeer three of my shuttles?”

“I’m sending the coordinates. If you could have your pilots drop my marines at the locations indicated, your shuttles should rendezvous with you by the time you’re in orbit.” Kalico gave the woman a slight shrug.

Abibi glanced off to the side; a ship-wide alert could be heard in the background. “Creamer’s marines are being placed on alert.”

“You heard my orders?”

“I heard.”

“Think they can deploy from Turalon within four hours?”

“I doubt it.”

“Please document their performance.”

“Yes, Board Supervisor.”

Kalico grinned. “I’d forgotten how formal that sounds.”

Abibi arched her questioning eyebrow. “OTR?”

“Sure,” Kalico told her.

“What are you doing?”

“Playing a very dangerous game of three-dimensional chess.” Kalico tilted her head slightly. “First you have to disrupt your opponent’s pawns. Then you can figure out how to tackle the king on the back row.”

Chapter 18

  18  

It didn’t matter that the ship alert was for the marines. Falise—Ednund hot on her heels—jammed into the hallway with all the others. Room—never at a surplus, even in the corridor on Command Deck—was cramped. She was reduced to shouting, “Out of my way” and letting Ednund, with his muscular two-meter frame, punch a hole through the press of crewmen and staff. But they made it to the AC, only to find the heavy door closed. A knot of curious transportees and crew were crowded before it, shouting questions to each other.

Within moments, Second Officer Madra Arapava appeared, calling, “Break it up! Back to your duties! The marines are conducting a surprise deployment. That means it’s a drill, people. This is not an emergency.”

Falise crossed her arms, backed up against the sialon hallway, and waited while people dribbled away, all talking among themselves about what it meant.

When most had gone, Falise stepped up to Arapava asking, “What are the marines doing?”