Even as the war continued across the Spiral Arm, Tasia found herself back at the Mars EDF base cooling her heels. She had never been good at sitting still. In the meantime, her Manta, along with many other military ships, had gone into spacedock for the installation of new armaments, though she hadn’t filed a formal request for upgrades.
Her crew had been dispersed, some of them given R&R, others assigned to ground-based functions. Sergeant Zizu had been dispatched to the lunar base to head up the training of green recruits; Subcommander Elly Ramirez had become part of a new action committee to upgrade navigational systems on enhanced battleships.
She sensed that something big was about to happen, but no one would tell her what it was. She felt oddly left out. Since the Roamers had cut off trade with the Hansa, the general antipathy toward the clans had grown, and Tasia herself had been the butt of many veiled “Roacher jokes.” Given the political climate, she didn’t have much desire to spend time in the officers’ clubs or even with other soldiers.
In her quarters, Tasia waited for a new assignment. Any assignment. Why was Admiral Willis taking so long? She felt awkward, not quite knowing what to do with herself.
EA was with her, but the Listener compy was no longer the old friend she had known for so many years. Tasia sat on the edge of her bunk and looked at the small computerized companion. “You were such a brave compy, EA. I just wish you could remember what you’ve done.”
“I have the data you uploaded to me, Tasia Tamblyn. It is sufficient.”
“Not for me.”
Tasia had combed through her private records, retrieved the files and diary entries that pertained to EA. She had collated them into summary documents and uploaded each one into the compy’s sadly emptied brain, after carefully sanitizing them to remove any secret details about Roamer activities. Though EA could now recite the particulars of major experiences she had shared with Tasia, the words were lifeless statements of fact, recitations instead of memories.
Tasia sighed, hating her own suspicions, not being able to trust EA. “I miss the real you.” She lay back on her bunk. So much about Osquivel had been a royal mess. One of these days she’d make up for it. The EDF would find a way to wipe out the murderous aliens that had killed her brother, her lover Robb, and too many others to name.
There was a war on, and she was spoiling for a fight. And here she was, grounded on Mars, lying in bed, doing nothing!
Restless, she climbed into her off-duty uniform and left her quarters. She went to the mess hall to listen to the conversations, maybe track down a game of Ping-Pong. The EDF was obviously gearing up for a large initiative. And her not-too-subtle inquiries had been rebuffed with typically vague military responses. As a Manta commander, she hoped she’d be at the forefront of the action, whatever it was. At the moment, though, her ship wasn’t ready and much of her crew had been reassigned.
She had good reason to be suspicious.
She dispensed a cup of coffee—bitter and lukewarm, as usual—and sat at a table with other Manta commanders and first officers. She heard them discussing deployment orders and targeting priorities. They seemed excited at the prospect of the new rammer ships, which would require only a handful of human commanders and teams of Soldier compies with specialized programming.
Trying to join the conversation, she asked, “Did they post rammer assignments yet? Any of you chosen?”
“No, but I’m glad to be getting more hands-on action,” said one commander. “It’s not the hydrogues, but at least it’s something.”
“About time King Peter decided to teach those damned Roachers a lesson.”
Another officer grumbled, “Cutting off the fleet’s ekti supply in a time of war—are they insane?”
“Roamers?” Tasia blurted. “What does the new mission have to do—”
Suddenly, the others at the table recalled who Tasia was, despite her EDF uniform. “Never mind, Tamblyn. We’ve got our marching orders.” The senior Manta commander stood. “We’d all better get back and check on our ships, right, everyone?”
Tasia sat drinking her coffee as the other commanders and first officers pointedly left her alone. Teach the Roamers a lesson? What on Earth was General Lanyan up to now? Since his encounter with the pirate Rand Sorengaard a long time ago, he’d had a chip on his shoulder the size of a minor planet.
Sure, she had heard grumblings about Speaker Peroni’s decision to cut off stardrive fuel shipments. Tasia had originally considered it nonsense that the EDF was destroying Roamer cargo ships—surely, as a Manta commander, Tasia would have known about such activities. But now, realizing that a secret new mission had been kept from her, she wondered how much else was going on without her knowledge.
When she got back to her quarters with a queasy stomach brought on only partially by the sour coffee, she found a message on the roomscreen. It had a formal EDF voice log seal and a code designation from Admiral Willis. Her new assignment orders at last!
Playing the message, she saw that the maternal Admiral wore a controlled yet troubled expression. She read the orders without emotion. “Commander Tamblyn, this message is to inform you that you’ve been reassigned from your Manta. Your cruiser will henceforth be captained by Commander Ramirez, who has been promoted to take your place at the helm.”
Tasia gasped. What had she done? Why were they taking her ship away from her? Commander Ramirez?
“I am pleased to give you the good news, however”—Willis’s voice conveyed anything but joy—“that you will be heading up the comprehensive training of second-stage recruits here on the Mars base. This is a task we really need you to do. Your innovations and flexibility should make you a superb instructor.”
“A teacher?” Tasia mumbled, as if the message screen could hear and respond. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Don’t misunderstand me, Tamblyn.” The Admiral’s image continued without a pause. “As far as I’m concerned, your service record is exemplary and your performance has always been impeccable. However, not every soldier can participate in every mission, and General Lanyan has determined that your services are not required for our new EDF initiative.”
“Damn right they’re not, if you intend to go after Roamers instead of the real enemy. Shizz, this is even worse than that stupid siege of Yreka.”
EA stood beside her absorbing the information, but the Listener compy placed no significance on Tasia’s emotional reaction. “I will be happy to assist you in developing a training curriculum, Tasia Tamblyn.”
Tasia tried to contain her inner anger, wanting just to punch somebody. The Earth Defense Forces clearly did not trust her. Had they been eavesdropping on her conversations? Were her quarters bugged? She had been so careful, even when talking to EA. She frowned at her compy, wondering if the Eddies themselves had done something to spark EA’s odd behavior.
Or was her Roamer heritage enough in itself to make them doubt her, even after so many years of service? Though no one would tell her what was going on, she feared the EDF meant to do something to the Roamer clans. Something terrible.