"The Commodore wants both of us in his office on the double," the Bear said. "Moulding and McKenzie are there already with Amherst. I saw an additional human emerge from their launch and join them, but I could not tell who it was."
Brim nodded, and the two trotted along the maze of stone catwalks that led to what was once an assay laboratory: leftover from Varnholm's original existence as a mining port. Two IVG guards— big Sodeskayan Sergeants, originally from the Special Security Corps—stood watchfully on either side of the door. Dwarfed at their sides were two human guards, wearing Imperial Fleet Cloaks embellished by large CIGA crests, who were casting worried glances at their IVG counterparts. As Brim and Ursis approached, one of the Bears opened the door, then both came to attention and saluted. The Imperials did not... until one of the Bears growled something in a low, menacing voice. At that, both humans immediately sprang to attention and saluted as if their lives depended on it. Brim stifled a laugh and returned their salutes. The terrified CIGAs were probably correct!
Inside the cramped "lobby," Barbousse and a third CIGA starsailor stood side by side, each holding a blast pike at the trail-arms position. Barbousse and the CIGA both saluted at the same time—smartly. Either Barbousse already had this one trained, or they'd actually run across a CIGA with some class. Barbousse opened the door and nodded. "Polkovnik Ursis, Cap'm Brim," he announced,
"Commodore Calhoun asks that you go right in." Then he looked Brim directly in the eye and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
Frowning, Brim nodded, and deferring to Ursis's superior rank, strode in first—nearly stumbling in surprise as their entry interrupted Amherst in the middle of a sentence. So that was what the big rating silently tried to warn him about! Seated before the glowering Calhoun's makeshift workstation were four men, not three: Toby Moulding, Fortune McKenzie, Puvis Amherst, and Kirsh Valentin—the latter smiling as if he were specially pleased to see the look of astonishment on Brim's face.
"Well, Brim," Amherst growled through clenched teeth, "it is high time you returned from your bloodthirsty work, war lover!"
The Carescrian glanced at Valentin only just in time to see him wipe a look of amusement from his face. Tall, slim, and handsome in his jet-black tunic, shirt, jodhpurs, and glossy riding boots, the cavalier Provost knew full well what Amherst was; Leaguers had no more respect for him or his CIGAs than did most Imperials. "What was that, Amherst?" Brim demanded.
"How many times must you be reminded, low-life Carescrian, that I am to be addressed by my title?" Amherst whined, indignantly jumping from his chair.
"More times than you've got," Brim replied calmly. "I have better respect for your Leaguer friend Valentin, here—at least he's never tried to be anything more than an enemy. The best you'll ever hear from me is 'traitor.' "
When Ursis finally lost his battle to stifle a guffaw, Amherst swung on his heel and confronted Calhoun. "Commodore!" he screeched, his face turning a livid red, "do something about these men of yours!"
Calhoun only shrugged. "I doubt if I can noo, Admiral," he said. "They're all a wee out o' control, you know. Especially Brim."
That was more than either Moulding or McKenzie could suffer. They covered their mouths while their faces turned red as zago-beets.
By now, even Valentin was struggling to maintain his composure. "Admiral Amherst," he suggested uneasily. "Perhaps you should not—as you yourself suggest—lower yourself to intercourse with such despicable tatterdemalions as these... mercenaries.'' He pronounced the latter as if it were an especially vile scurrility. "Might it not be more fitting that I—who have not yet reached true flag rank—deal with your inferiors?"
Amherst frowned, considering this. "Yes," he agreed at length, gathering his injured pride into a heroic pose, "I believe that might be appropriate."
"Excellent," Valentin said, rising slowly. He stood for a few moments in silence while Amherst continued to pose, then cleared his throat pointedly.
Amherst started slightly and turned to peer down his nose at the Leaguer.
"If you please, Admiral," Valentin said coldly.
"Oh," Amherst said, almost in surprise. "Ahem... yes...." He resumed his seat with great dignity.
"Commodore," Valentin said, turning to face Calhoun, "my Imperial colleague, Admiral Amherst, has brought your venerated battleship Queen Elidean to Fluvanna not by request of the League of Dark Stars, but by acclaim from an equally peace-loving segment of your own Empire: the Congress of IntraGalactic Accord." He paused for a moment to look around the room. "We do not address you here today in your guise of Fluvannians but as the members of Greyffin's Imperial Fleet that you assuredly are.
Do you understand?"
Calhoun nodded. "You may continue, Valentin," he said noncommittally.
The Leaguer sneered and turned to Brim. "To think that once you might have been legitimate, Brim, as an officer in the League Fleet," he said. "Instead, your foolish prejudice has led to this berth working for a low-life pirate—hiding your shame behind the uniform of the corrupt Nabob of Fluvanna."
Brim steepled his fingers together and forced himself to relax. "Time will tell, Valentin," he said,
"which of us turns out to be legitimate. But meanwhile, I feel a lot more comfortable right where I am than serving as toady to a contemptible kennel of butchers like the Leaguers I've met so far."
Amherst gasped, and started out of his chair, but Valentin pushed him back without even taking his eyes from Brim—as if the CIGA were nothing more than a bothersome child. The Leaguer's eyes flashed with cold rage. "Those words will someday cost your life, Carescrian," he hissed through clenched teeth.
"I've heard you promise that a number of times, Valentin," Brim replied calmly. "But you'll have to work faster than you've worked so far. Otherwise, I'm liable to die of old age first."
Calhoun interrupted. "Valentin," he growled, "you claim you have some sort of message for all of us. Alright, let's have it. You can let Brim make a fool of you later, when you aren't wasting time for so many other people."
Valentin's eyebrows rose in rage and he opened his mouth to speak, but Calhoun cut him off with a scowl that would shred hullmetal. "An' remember this, you black-suited punk," he growled, "I'll grant that it took a lot of intestinal fortitude for you to show up here alone. You've never been anythin' if you haven't been brave, Kirsh Valentin. But you are sittin' here as my guest. It's not the other way around. So say what you have to say an' then get you an' your recreant friend out o'here the fastest way you can. Do you understand, Provost?"
"I understand. Commodore," Valentin said quietly, his whole expression dripping with enmity.
"Then begin, mon," Calhoun prompted.
"First," Valentin said, glancing around the room, "I shall remind you all that no state of war exists between the League and your Empire." Then he turned to Calhoun. "Oh, you were clever in leasing these Starfuries to the Fluvannian government," he said in a low, menacing voice. "We can do nothing about that—nor the fact that we will have to contend with your defense of this wretched dominion. However," he continued with a droll smile, "in the interests of conciliation, our harmony-loving Imperial colleagues have gathered a full battle crew of heroic reconciliators aboard I.F.S. Queen Elidean. And—in the interests of peace—these brave men and women from all walks of Imperial life are prepared to give their lives protecting the new space fortifications we have recently completed just off the shoals of Zonga'ar."