To Communications, he said, “Tell all units to banner the Deuce of Gears upside down.”
Communications blinked. “Sir?”
“You heard me. Invert it.” Kujen had wanted him to use his old emblem, fine. That didn’t mean he couldn’t modify it to sow confusion. It seemed appropriate, anyway. Maybe if, by some miracle, he ever recovered his memories, he could go back to bannering right-side-up.
“One moment, sir.” Communications relayed the instruction.
“Enemy swarm is holding position,” Scan said.
“Sir,” Communications said, a tremor in his voice betraying confusion, “General Inesser is asking for parley again.”
“Is she now,” Jedao said. “I’ll allow it. This time, she’s talking to me.”
He was treated once more to Inesser’s emblem, which he had to admit was very pretty. Was emblem envy a thing? If so, he had a bad case of it. He still couldn’t get around the idea that people found a mismatched pair of gears threatening.
“Jedao,” Inesser breathed the moment they were connected, with an intensity that suggested that, as little as he knew her, she knew him very well indeed. “I suppose you’d be more comfortable this way. Or is it Cheris these days? One loses track.”
Cheris was the woman who had run off with his memories. What did Inesser mean by “more comfortable this way”? Did she think he was Cheris, after some mods? Jedao was suddenly very curious about what this Cheris person had been up to. “Just Jedao,” he said at his most amiable. “Is there something I can do for you? Because unless I’m mistaken, we’ve already bannered. It would be a shame to let all that hostile intent go to waste.”
“Spare me,” Inesser said. “I knew you couldn’t be up to any good when you disappeared. You’re aware that Kel Command dishonorably discharged you?”
He was? But he didn’t dare admit his ignorance, and more importantly, the bored expressions of his Kel told him that he could safely ignore this line of accusation. “You accused my moth commander of being a crashhawk,” Jedao said. “Either apologize to them or let’s fight.”
“You’re serious,” Inesser said after a telling pause.
Why wouldn’t he be? She’d offered insult to his senior moth commander. It reflected on his honor as well. Never mind that he was a Shuos; his honor was his swarm’s honor. He kept silent, watching her face closely.
“Jedao,” Inesser said, “you can’t possibly hope to pull rank on me on account of a few centuries of service. Because the only two people who have any reasonable claim to countermanding your discharge are myself and High General Brezan. And the high general is my ally.”
“That doesn’t sound like an apology,” Jedao said. “Say something relevant or we’re opening fire.” He glanced over at Talaw. Talaw did not look won over, but he hadn’t expected them to be. It was the principle of the matter, that was all.
Meraun winced; Dhanneth shook his head. Nice that someone had faith in him. Inesser was either stalling or trying to drag intelligence out of him. She vastly outnumbered him, not an unimportant consideration even in space, if only because having more warmoths gave her access to more and deadlier formations. If she hadn’t gone on the attack, it was because she thought he had the advantage. But he didn’t have the time to explain this to his crew, nor the inclination. Either he would prove himself effective or they would be defeated, a refreshingly simple set of alternatives.
“There was a time when I thought you might have entered this mad crusade with good intentions, if lamentable results,” Inesser said. “Your manifesto made that clear enough. But this? On the anniversary of the hexarchs’ assassinations? Nine years of us rebuilding the shit you blew to pieces, and you’re trying to throw everything back into chaos.”
Kujen’s notes hadn’t said anything about Jedao being personally responsible for the hexarchate’s fractured state, or a manifesto. On the other hand, the trouble with amnesia was that he could be responsible for anything from high treason to the pickle shortfalls on the eighth bannermoth in Tactical Three.
More, his crew had flinched this time. He couldn’t let Inesser’s words demoralize them further.
That brought him abruptly to the realization that he wasn’t the target of this chat. Talking to him was an excuse for her to address his soldiers. She was maneuvering on another battlefield entirely. Of a sudden he liked her; wished they could meet person to person, wished she were his mentor. But he had a duty to Kujen and his Kel, and he intended to carry it out.
“I didn’t hear the word ‘apology’ anywhere in there either,” Jedao said. “Goodbye, Protector-General Inesser.” He motioned for Communications to cut the line. “Communications, address to all moths. This is General Jedao. Resume advance at 38% acceleration.” That would get them to the outer perimeter, as mapped by Strategy, within the next twenty-three minutes.
All the acknowledgment lights flashed rapidly at him. His swarm might not be eager to face Inesser, but they weren’t reluctant, either.
“Sir,” said Weapons, a lieutenant with a soft, round face like rice dough, “General Inesser’s swarm appears to be modulating into Thunderbird Fury.”
Weapons didn’t have to also tell him that they didn’t want to be in the way of the resulting shock wave when the formation completed itself. Scan confirmed that Inesser’s bannermoths were forming up with dismaying accuracy. Kujen’s notes had given Jedao the impression that Protector-General Inesser and High General Brezan didn’t get along. Had Kujen or his informants been mistaken? If the Compact and the hexarchate were accustomed to joint operations, they were in bigger trouble than Strategy had reckoned on.
“Special move orders for Commander Chwen,” Jedao said, resisting the temptation to speak more rapidly. He needed to project calm. Chwen commanded the second warmoth in Tactical One. “In a moment the Revenant is going to charge. When it does, you will take up the formation’s primary pivot until further notice.” He might not have as many warmoths as Inesser and her friends, but he had enough that one moth out of place wouldn’t cause the formation’s geometry to degenerate into uselessness.
As he’d expected, the panel lit to indicate that Chwen had a question. Jedao was strongly of the opinion that Chwen needed to learn trust sooner rather than later. The order was clear enough. “Commander Chwen,” he added coolly, “acknowledge.”
After two seconds, the light turned amber. He would have preferred prompter acknowledgment, but it would do for a start.
“Special orders for the Revenant,” Jedao said, training his regard on Commander Talaw. “Weapons, charge the shear cannon.” He must remember to send Kujen a thank-you note for the weapon’s mercifully short activation time. “On my mark, we will rush the Three Kestrels Three Suns on a direct intercept course.”
He didn’t intend to ram Inesser’s command moth. That would be stupid, if possibly also amusing to whatever fox spirits lurked out in space watching human antics. But the more he could scare her, the better. Failing that, he might as well use his reputation for being crazy.
“Course plotted,” Navigation said. Her shoulders were hunched.