Highness’ exit until heavier forces could arrive. In so doing they revealed their entire Trinivanian organization. The capture or death alone of the princess would not have warranted such costly action.”
Abraxa looked at him narrowly, and after a few seconds nodded. “Go on.”
“ Invaradin successfully rescued Her Royal Highness and her entourage, as well as our embassy staff on Trinivan. Rochefort again intervened in Fleet Operations to order Invaradin to Dumark.”
It took a moment, but comprehension slowly appeared in Abraxa’s eyes. “The Empress Cassandra is on Dumark, is she not?”
“Yes she is,” Juessik said. “Traveling incognito. And so is the queen mother. Rochefort sent them a message after he left Fleet-Op.”
“Very curious!” Abraxa said. “But why Trinivan? And why Aeya? She’s nothing but a stupid, young girl, with obvious, but naïve, peacer sympathies. Not even Edvard is foolish enough to entrust her with something important.”
“No,” Juessik agreed. “But among Aeya’s entourage is Sylissa d’Hart, and Edvard and Cassandra trust her implicitly.”
Abraxa considered that for a long moment, then slowly began nodding his head. “Yes! They’re up to something, aren’t they? Do you have anyone in Aeya’s entourage?”
“Yes,” Juessik said. “But he’s been rather ineffectual. Not his fault, actually. Whatever Edvard is up to, he’s been exceedingly careful about leaks.”
“We must have information,” Abraxa demanded. “What’s your next move?”
Juessik spoke carefully, for this was the key moment. “I had not intended to make a next move, Your Grace. My superior will not allow me to act on the matter.”
Abraxa’s face remained expressionless. “And your superior chose not to inform me at all of the matter.”
Juessik shrugged. “Perhaps he feels it’s unimportant.”
“Or perhaps . . .” Abraxa added, “. . . he’s withholding the information for his own purposes.”
Juessik knew he had to speak carefully now. “I wouldn’t know, Your Grace.”
“Then why did you circumvent him? Why come directly to me? Are you not doing so for your own purposes?”
Juessik shrugged. “I would hope to be of some service, Your Grace.”
“Of course,” Abraxa said. He leaned back in his chair and smiled in a way that told Torrin Juessik his future was brightening. “Let us assume, Lieutenant Colonel Juessik, that I allowed you a free hand in this. What then would be your next move?”
“We need to let them play their hand, so I would go personally to Dumark, under cover as an AI major, observe events and be ready to move at the right moment. And I have an extremely reliable agent in Cassandra’s entourage who’ll be forewarned and on hand when it does happen.”
“And if that fails?” Abraxa asked.
Juessik wanted to keep Abraxa as uninformed as possible, but he had to impress the fat old fart with something. “I have an option I would prefer not to exercise unless it’s absolutely necessary, a certain leverage with the d’Hart woman, though she’s not yet aware of that. If necessary I can induce her to aid us, albeit reluctantly.”
Abraxa considered the matter carefully for some seconds, then nodded slowly. “Very well. I’ll take care of your superior, and you may proceed without his interference.”
Abraxa sat for a moment without moving. There was something he should remember about Invaradin , but nothing would come to mind.
He turned to a small console built into the ornate desk, activated it, pulled up a description of Invaradin : an ordinary heavy cruiser. The ship and her captain had a distinguished record. Abraxa had even met him a few times: the youngest son of the Earl of Seegat. Perhaps that was it. But no, there was something he should remember, and it bothered him that he couldn’t. But he was a patient man, and he was confident it would come to mind eventually.
York slammed awake, sat up in bed, ignored
Abraxa looked at him narrowly, and after a few seconds nodded. “Go on.”
“ Invaradin successfully rescued Her Royal Highness and her entourage, as well as our embassy staff on Trinivan. Rochefort again intervened in Fleet Operations to order Invaradin to Dumark.”
It took a moment, but comprehension slowly appeared in Abraxa’s eyes. “The Empress Cassandra is on Dumark, is she not?”
“Yes she is,” Juessik said. “Traveling incognito. And so is the queen mother. Rochefort sent them a message after he left Fleet-Op.”
“Very curious!” Abraxa said. “But why Trinivan? And why Aeya? She’s nothing but a stupid, young girl, with obvious, but naïve, peacer sympathies. Not even Edvard is foolish enough to entrust her with something important.”
“No,” Juessik agreed. “But among Aeya’s entourage is Sylissa d’Hart, and Edvard and Cassandra trust her implicitly.”
Abraxa considered that for a long moment, then slowly began nodding his head. “Yes! They’re up to something, aren’t they? Do you have anyone in Aeya’s entourage?”
“Yes,” Juessik said. “But he’s been rather ineffectual. Not his fault, actually. Whatever Edvard is up to, he’s been exceedingly careful about leaks.”
“We must have information,” Abraxa demanded. “What’s your next move?”
Juessik spoke carefully, for this was the key moment. “I had not intended to make a next move, Your Grace. My superior will not allow me to act on the matter.”
Abraxa’s face remained expressionless. “And your superior chose not to inform me at all of the matter.”
Juessik shrugged. “Perhaps he feels it’s unimportant.”
“Or perhaps . . .” Abraxa added, “. . . he’s withholding the information for his own purposes.”
Juessik knew he had to speak carefully now. “I wouldn’t know, Your Grace.”
“Then why did you circumvent him? Why come directly to me? Are you not doing so for your own purposes?”
Juessik shrugged. “I would hope to be of some service, Your Grace.”
“Of course,” Abraxa said. He leaned back in his chair and smiled in a way that told Torrin Juessik his future was brightening. “Let us assume, Lieutenant Colonel Juessik, that I allowed you a free hand in this. What then would be your next move?”
“We need to let them play their hand, so I would go personally to Dumark, under cover as an AI major, observe events and be ready to move at the right moment. And I have an extremely reliable agent in Cassandra’s entourage who’ll be forewarned and on hand when it does happen.”
“And if that fails?” Abraxa asked.
Juessik wanted to keep Abraxa as uninformed as possible, but he had to impress the fat old fart with something. “I have an option I would prefer not to exercise unless it’s absolutely necessary, a certain leverage with the d’Hart woman, though she’s not yet aware of that. If necessary I can induce her to aid us, albeit reluctantly.”
Abraxa considered the matter carefully for some seconds, then nodded slowly. “Very well. I’ll take care of your superior, and you may proceed without his interference.”
Abraxa sat for a moment without moving. There was something he should remember about Invaradin , but nothing would come to mind.
He turned to a small console built into the ornate desk, activated it, pulled up a description of Invaradin : an ordinary heavy cruiser. The ship and her captain had a distinguished record. Abraxa had even met him a few times: the youngest son of the Earl of Seegat. Perhaps that was it. But no, there was something he should remember, and it bothered him that he couldn’t. But he was a patient man, and he was confident it would come to mind eventually.
York slammed awake, sat up in bed, ignored
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