“Call it in,” I said to her. “Let them know we need immediate medical evac for two Rraey prisoners of war. Tell them I’ve promised they won’t be further harmed.”
“That’s going to go over well.”
“Just do it.”
“Anything else?”
“Tell them to send another shuttle for the two of us. We have another mission to finish.”
* * *
On the way back, our shuttle was diverted from the Tubingen to the other Colonial Union ship.
“I haven’t heard of the Chandler before,” Powell said.
“It’s a State Department ship, not a CDF ship,” I said.
“A State Department ship with a fully operational offensive weapons system.”
“Times have changed,” I said.
“These constraints are hurting my arms,” said Masahiko Okada, the now-former prime minister of Khartoum. It’s possible that he might still be considered the prime minister by some, but from a practical matter his days in charge of things were now over. “I’m very uncomfortable.”
“And several of my friends are dead,” Powell said, to Okada. “So maybe you should think you’re getting the better end of the deal and shut up.”
Okada turned to me. “If you don’t think people will know about how you’re treating me—”
“Let me throw him out,” Powell said, to me.
Okada turned back to Powell. “What?”
“Let me throw him out,” Powell repeated to me. “This shitbucket is the reason Lambert and Salcido are dead. Not to mention everyone else in the platoon.”
“Not everyone else is dead,” I reminded her. “Gould and DeConnick survived, too.”
“Gould and DeConnick are both in critical condition,” Powell said. “They might survive. And if they don’t that leaves just you and me. Out of an entire fucking platoon.” She jabbed a finger at Okada. “I think that rates him getting a space walk without a suit.”
I turned to Okada. “Your thoughts, Mr. Prime Minister?”
“It’s the Colonial Union that instigated this rebellion, not the government of Khartoum,” Okada began.
“Oh, that is it,” Powell interrupted, and stood up. “Time for you to breathe some vacuum, motherfucker.” Okada visibly shrunk away from Powell.
I held up a hand. Powell stopped advancing on Okada. “New plan,” I said. I pointed to Okada. “You don’t say another single word until after we dock with the Chandler”—I glanced back to Powell—“and you don’t toss him into space.”
Okada said nothing more, even after we had landed and some of the Chandler’s crew took him away.
“He seems quiet,” the Chandler crew member who approached me said, nodding over to Okada. Unlike all the others, he was green, which meant he was CDF.
“He was sufficiently motivated,” I said.
“It appears so,” he said. “Now, then. Do you remember me, Lieutenant Lee?”
“I do, Lieutenant Wilson,” I said. I motioned to Powell. “This is my sergeant, Ilse Powell.”
“Sergeant,” Wilson said, and turned his attention back to me. “I’m glad you remember me. I’m supposed to debrief you and catch you up with things.”
“What we’d really like to do is get back to the Tubingen,” I said.
“Well,” Wilson said. “About that.”
“What is it?”
“Maybe we should find someplace to sit down and chat.”
“Maybe you should just tell me right now because otherwise I might punch you, Wilson.”
He smiled. “You definitely haven’t changed. All right, here it is: The Tubingen survived the attack on her, but ‘survive’ is a relative term. She’s essentially dead in orbit. She might have been entirely destroyed but we managed to get here in time and help her fight off the ships attacking her.”
“And how did you do that?” I asked. “Arrive in the nick of time.”
“We had a hunch,” Wilson said, “and that’s all I can say about that right now, here, out in the open in a shuttle bay.”
“Hmmmm.”
“My point is that if you really want to head back to the Tubingen you may after we’re done debriefing. But you won’t be staying there. At best you’ll have time to collect any personal belongings that weren’t destroyed in the battle before the John Henry and other ships arrive to take you and all the other survivors of the Tubingen back to Phoenix Station for reassignment. You might as well stay here. We can have your effects brought to you.”
“How many people died in the attack on the Tubingen?” Powell asked.
“Two hundred fifteen dead, another several dozen injured. That’s not counting your platoon. Sorry about that. We’ve retrieved them, by the way.”
“Where are they?” I asked.
“They’re in one of the mess coolers at the moment.”
“I’d like to see them.”
“I don’t recommend that. It’s not very dignified. How they are being stored, I mean.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’ll have it arranged, then.”