Drysine Legacy (The Spiral Wars Book 2) by Joel Shepherd Page B

exclaimed the Fleet Admiral in surprise. “This is an honour. To what do I owe it?” In Fleet seniority, Anjo was a whole five ranks above Khola — a stratospheric O-11, where Khola was merely an O-6. Yet while Anjo might receive more salutes, no one in Fleet was under any illusion who got the most respect.
    “I have some special business, sir,” Khola said simply. “I would be gratified if we could attend to it immediately.”
    Anjo’s eyes went wide. Special business, coming from Khola, could only mean the Guidance Council. Much of Fleet thought the Guidance Council was just a rumour, a tale to be told late at night. The administrative version of a ghost ship story, told to frighten junior bureaucrats into good behaviour. Select very senior officers knew better.
    Anjo nodded to the officers about him, who left with respectful haste. One of Khola’s companions followed them out, and shut the doors behind him. Khola glanced at the boxes. Anjo smiled nervously. “I’ve been informed that the security standards in this neighbourhood are no longer up to scratch. You know, with things as they are.”
    Khola nodded. Anjo had upset the Debogandes. The Debogande Family was known to employ some very serious muscle, much of it ex-Fleet. Anjo had pinned a murder on Alice Debogande’s son, then tried to kill him too when it all went bad. Worse, he’d tried to kill Major Thakur, and Thakur wore the Liberty Star just as Khola did. Many marines were furious, and Anjo, whatever his rank, was no marine. Anjo had set a precedent, of top officers murdering, and attempting to murder, their own. No one was especially surprised that High Command could do such things — one hundred and sixty one years of war had demonstrated that the universe, and Fleet Command, could be equally dark and dangerous. But even so, such behaviour could be catching. No doubt Anjo was nervous, and moving somewhere safer.
    “Colonel, what kind of drink could I offer a Kulina that you might accept?” Anjo asked. Anjo was dark and portly. His uniform belt was let out several notches more than Khola thought seemly, even on a spacer.
    “No drink, thank you Admiral.” He fixed Anjo with a calm stare. “I’m here to inform you that the Guidance Council has deliberated, and found the present situation intolerable. Fleet must maintain Spacer dominance over Worlders, but instead of uniting behind you, your actions have divided us. One of our most powerful industrial families, a family with a record of great service to Spacer causes and a great friend to Fleet, has now been made our enemy. Spacer Congress representatives are upset. My fellow marines are upset. Some Spacer captains involved in the initial pursuit of Phoenix from Homeworld were then, and are still now, on the verge of mutiny. Even many who were in the greatest disagreement with Captain Pantillo’s politics cannot accept on principle that one of their own could be dealt with in this manner.”
    “Look,” Anjo said shortly, temper and fear rising as one. He jabbed his finger at Khola. “I was given specific instructions to deal with Pantillo. Immediately, that was the word I received. I know many of the Guidance Council were in agreement at the time, and only now, in hindsight…” He broke off, and strode to stare out a window at the green gardens. “I mean what did they think would happen? The war was ended, Pantillo was going to run for office from Heuron, where he’d probably win, and then a man with his war record, organising on behalf of the Worlders… well, only a matter of time until the Worlders gained full democratic rights at the top of our political system. Unacceptable, I was told. And so I dealt with it, exactly how I was instructed, only now does everyone see the impossibility of the situation I was placed in!”
    “I quite understand,” Khola agreed. “But that does not change the present situation.”
    “And how the hell did that girl get loose in the detention cells?”