It’s a pity Rajani didn’t shoot himself months ago, he thought sourly. Of course, Kingsford probably would’ve shot from the hip, too, if he’d been in Rajani’s position and known what Rajani knew at the outset. Even if that’s true, though, he’s clearly a wiser and more cautious man these days. The question is, is he wise enough?

“All right, Fleet Admiral,” he said finally. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. As you say, there are political aspects to this that lie outside the military’s purview. My colleagues and I will have to consider those aspects before we can decide whether or not to pursue the strategy you’ve sketched out. I’ll try to get that decision for you as quickly as possible. In the meantime, however, I’d like you—and perhaps Captain Gweon—to produce a more detailed strategic plan. One that shows us what forces you’d contemplate using, where and how you’d employ them, what the logistic requirements would be, and all of that sort of thing.”

“I’ve had Admiral Jennings, my chief of staff at Battle Fleet, working on the concept for several weeks, Sir. I’m pretty sure we could have what you’re asking for in no more than a few days.”

“Good.” Kolokoltsov stood and extended his hand across the desk, indicating the end of the meeting, and Kingsford rose and gripped the hand.

“I won’t say I’ve enjoyed hearing what you and Captain Gweon had to say,” Kolokoltsov continued. “I do, however, appreciate the clarity with which you both said it.”

* * *

“So how did it go?”

Captain Caswell Gweon looked up from his martini with a smile as the extremely attractive red-haired woman slid into the chair on the other side of the small, private table.

“Fine, dear. And how was your day?” he asked with a smile.

“Boring, as usual,” she replied. “And don’t change the subject.”

“It’s known as small talk, dear,” Gweon pointed out. “The sort of thing people who are seeing one another seriously or, oh, I don’t know, engaged to each other, tend to do when they meet.”

“Point taken,” she admitted with a smile, then leaned across the table, cupped the side of his face in the palm of her right hand, and kissed him with a thoroughness which drew at least one laugh of approval from the bar’s other patrons.

“Much better!” he told her with an even broader smile of his own. He looked around the dimly lit bar, as if seeking the person who’d laughed. Nobody confessed, but several people smiled at him, and he shook his head, then waved one of the waiters over.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Would it be possible for us to get one of the private booths?” Gweon produced a credit chip which somehow magically teleported into the waiter’s hand.