Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

Militant, because you had to be these days if you wanted to be a fleet officer under Emperor Finn, but she really didn’t give much of a damn. She was loyal to the Empire, and the Emperor, because that was part of the job. You had to believe in the chain of command in the military, or everything just went to hell.
    Standing at her side, sniffing and occasionally sucking at her teeth in that irritating way she had, was her second-in-command, Marcella Fortuna. A tall gangling blonde with cool blue eyes and a vague smile, a sloppy manner, and the kind of quiet determination that could wear down mountains. Reliable, but not noted for original thinking, Fortuna had been a second for forty years because no one in their right mind would ever make her a captain. Vardalos and Fortuna had served together for longer than either of them cared to remember. They made a good team. Even on jobs they had no stomach for.
    “Move us in a little closer,” said Vardalos. “I want to be able to look the herald over thoroughly before we launch our supposed superweapon.”
    “Are you sure that’s really wise, Captain?” said Fortuna. “Something quite appallingly nasty is due to happen to Usher II anytime now, and we don’t want it happening to us, do we?”
    “Don’t fill your trousers just yet, Second. The herald’s never been known to attack anything. Bloody thing doesn’t have to; by all accounts it’s indestructible. We’ve got some time to play with yet, as long as we’re careful.”
    “And the departing civilian ships, Captain? We do have quite explicit instructions . . .”
    “Officially, we can’t spare the energy it would take to deal with them. Unofficially, I didn’t join the fleet to shoot civilians in the back while they were running away. You have any problems with that, Second?”
    “No, Captain. I just wanted to be sure you had your justifications thought out properly. And I think I’ll edit this conversation from the bridge log, on the way back. Just in case. You never know who might have access to it, these days.”
    “It’s becoming that sort of a fleet, isn’t it?” Vardalos sighed heavily. “Still, emperors come and go, but the fleet goes on. We follow our duty and weather the storms, because someone has to provide continuity. Someone has to be around, to clear up the messes the politicians make.”
    “Who are you trying to persuade, Captain?” said Fortuna. “Me, or you?”
    “Oh, hush, Second. This ship’s loyal, and as long as I’m captain it will stay loyal. Finn may not have turned out to be the Emperor he promised he’d be, but everyone else has either run away or been proved false. You have to believe in someone . We have too many enemies at our throat to go soft. The ELFs, the aliens, the Terror . . . Maybe we need an Iron Man on the throne, in times like these. So suck it in and shoulder the weight, Second, because that’s part of the job too. Communications, get me the captain of the Hook .”
    “Aye, Captain.”
    Captain Carter Randolph appeared on the bridge’s main viewscreen, scowling fiercely. Vandalos knew better than to take it personally. Randolph was the oldest serving captain in the fleet, and by far the most experienced. His actual age was said to be classified, but he had to be at least a hundred and thirty. He’d been a large man once, but his great frame was stooped and shriveled now, collapsing in on itself. Sharp gray eyes dominated his heavily lined face, under a shock of silver-gray hair. His habitual glower softened a little as he took in Vardalos.
    “Ariadne! About time you got here. We’ve been hanging around this arse end of the universe for over an hour. Don’t suppose there’s been any change in our orders?”
    “No, Captain Randolph. Nothing’s changed. My job is still to deliver the alien superweapon, and hang around just long enough to see if it works. And your job is still to throw away your life for nothing.”
    “Not for nothing. For my faith, and my duty. Everyone on this ship is a volunteer, very definitely including me. If your weapon doesn’t stop the herald, we get to stay and wait for the Terror, and the destruction of Usher II. We’ll broadcast data for as long as our instruments hold out. The Empire needs new information on the Terror.”
    “I’ve never believed in suicide missions,” Vardalos said, meeting Randolph’s gaze squarely.
    “We gave up our lives when we joined the service,” said Randolph. “You can’t say