There were murmurs of agreement around the table, and possibly an increased sharpness in Tovera’s expression also as she decanted more sherry. She felt Adele’s eyes and shrugged in embarrassment at showing interest.
Mon was Daniel’s senior on the lieutenant’s list by eight years, but Adele hadn’t seen any sign of resentment toward his youthful commanding officer. She wondered if Mon was smart enough to believe his best route to promotion was to serve under a flashy, fortunate officer like Daniel Leary, or if it was something more basic: loyalty to a man who had treated him well.
“The pirates of the Selma Cluster are supposedly pacified,” Daniel said. “And the Alliance has no bases in the Sack, so our chances of meeting a raider are limited.”
He pursed his lips, then grinned engagingly. “On the other hand, I wouldn’t trust a pirate’s word that he’d reformed, and besides, they’re always having a coup or a revolution on one planet or another there. The losers aren’t going to be bound by treaties, so there’s the chance we’ll get in some hunting.”
He frowned. “Depending on Commodore Pettin’s notions of how the Princess Cecile would be best utilized, of course.”
“Captain?” Woetjans said. Of the officers excepting Adele, the bosun had the most experience of Daniel and the least hesitation of asking a straight question. “Can you tell us why we’ve been sent to Pettin anyhow? You know and I know that a clean ship like the Sissie’s got no business farting around in the Sack when there’s a war on.”
“She’s foreign built,” said Pasternak. He spread his hands to fend off reaction to what sounded like an insult when it came out of his mouth. “I’ve never served aboard a tighter hull than this one, I don’t mean that. But what I know and what some bean counter in the Navy Office knows, that’s not the same thing.”
“That don’t explain the crew, Red,” Woetjans said, rasping over the voices of three other officers who were probably about to make the same point. “A first-rate crew for the Aglaia, sure, she was a dispatch vessel and likely to be carrying anybody from admirals to a planetary observer. But we’ve got the pick of the Aggie’s crew aboard, and I don’t think that’s because some clerk fucked up.”
“Is it Vaughn?” Betts asked. He sounded vaguely tense, as was to be expected from an ordinary space officer who fears he might be involved in high politics. “Vaughn carries himself like he’s somebody, that’s for sure!”
Everyone stared at Daniel. He nodded twice, his mechanism for getting time to organize his thoughts. He looked around the table, deliberately not letting his eyes fall on Adele.
“The appearance of Mr. Vaughn was a surprise to me,” Daniel said, “and to all the other officers of the Princess Cecile. There may be wheels moving within wheels, but I don’t have the impression that Admiral Anston decided we needed a crack crew to take some foreigner home.”
Adele knew that Daniel had distanced the RCN from the passenger in order to keep the crew’s morale up; it was a wonder he hadn’t said “wog” instead of “foreigner.” Even so it set her teeth on edge. It was a betrayal of her cherished belief that humans should be citizens of the universe rather than chauvinists for their particular planet or organization.
She grinned. Of course she was now an officer of the RCN, an organization that stood head and shoulders above every other group in the universe.
“As for why we’ve been sent to the Sack, Woetjans . . .” Daniel said, smiling at the bosun. “I don’t know and I won’t speculate.”
Woetjans and Pasternak both glanced at Adele, drawing the gaze of the other officers. She said nothing, and Daniel kept his own gaze blandly off her. Woetjans lowered her eyes in embarrassment and muttered, “Well, it’ll be all right.”
Daniel’s expression hardened slightly. “I will say,” he said, “that if the Republic had a difficult task that was within the capacity of a corvette, there couldn’t have been a better choice than the Princess Cecile and her present crew.”
Lt. Mon rose to his feet. His glass was full because Hogg had just been by with the fourth carafe.