The Honour of the Knights (First Edition) (6 page)

“
Second Lieutenant Simon Dodds reporting as requested, sir,”
Dodds presented himself. He stood before the three men in full
naval dress: a pair of dark blue trousers and blazer with gold
trims and buttons. On his feet he wore a pair of well-polished
black shoes, which he had become quite conscious of in the last
couple of minutes, for some reason. Perhaps it was because of the
clamorous clopping they made as he walked, announcing his arrival
much more than he would have liked.

There
was no answer from any of the men behind the table. The admiral,
seated in the middle, continued his unhurried leaf through a number
of pieces of paper in front of him, apparently deciding to make him
wait on purpose.

Dodds
recognised all three of the men in front of him: Commodore Parks
and Commodore Hawke sat either side of Turner, both waiting
patiently for the admiral to begin. Behind the desk, a window that
made up the entire back wall permitted Dodds a view of the
twinkling stars outside. He forced himself not to be distracted by
the sight. Aside from the four men, only two others occupied the
room: both armed security personnel by the closed door at the other
end, rifles drawn and pointed down.

He
waited some more. Turner continued to turn pages. Dodds started to
get the impression that what was about to be discussed was quite
confidential. After some time, Turner looked up from his reading,
gathering together the papers.

“
Before we begin, Lieutenant Dodds, I have a question I want
to ask you.” The admiral clasped his hands together on the desk
before him.

“
Yes, sir,” Dodds said.

“
Tell me: what does the name “Lieutenant Commander Patrick
Dean” mean to you?”

“
He
’
s a TAF pilot, sir. Flies with
the
Yellow Dogs
.
He was recently injured in the line of duty,” Dodds said
truthfully.

“
Wrong answer, Dodds,” Turner said with
false patience. “I
’
ll ask you that again. Who is
Lieutenant Commander Patrick Dean?”

Dodds noticed that all three of the men were staring fixated
at him and he became thankful for the cap that he held by his side,
his grip tightening on it. He grasped the direction that the
admiral
’
s
question was leading him and, remembering what he had been told on
the morning of Dean
’
s death, supplied his next answer.

“
I don
’
t know, sir. I
’
ve never heard of him.”

“
Excellent. Neither have I,” Turner said,
sitting back up straight. The man appeared satisfied with the point
he was making, it now very clear in Dodds
’
mind. “Shall we get this underway
then?” the admiral asked of the two other officers before turning
back to Dodds.

“
There are three reasons why you have been brought out here
today, Lieutenant,” began Turner. “None of which should be allowed
to go to your head. First and foremost: it is after considerable
discussion that we have decided that your suspension from duty has
been met. You should have had sufficient time during this period to
reflect upon your actions and realise just how serious and costly
your mistakes were.”

“
Yes, sir,” Dodds said, straightening. “During my suspension I
spent a lot of time…”

“
Secondly,” Turner continued, raising his voice whilst at the
same time telling Dodds to silence his own, “naval human resources
are at an all time low and we need every man and woman we can get a
hold of. You may be aware of the on-going problems we are facing
securing Confederation interests against increasing insurgency, as
well as the not-so-insubstantial threat posed by the Imperial civil
war. The war is now causing unrest in a number of Independent World
star systems; unrest and disturbance that could eventually spill
over into Confederation-controlled space. Should that happen, we
can be assured that immigrants will come pouring into many of our
own systems, bringing refugees, criminals, bounty hunters and even
more insurgents along with them. In order to pre-empt such an event
we need to increase naval presence along our borders.”

Dodds
saw the map he had studied for the last few hours once more in his
head, focusing in on the former Independent worlds that had been
swallowed up by the Empire. He could not quite imagine the same
thing happening in reverse to the Confederacy, as Turner might well
be suggesting. He might not know a great deal about the history of
the galaxy, but he assumed that the Confederation was a little more
stable than most other places; considerably more so than some of
the Independents.

The image evaporated as Turner continued speaking. “This is a
point that needs to be understood by all Naval personnel: the
relationship between the Imperial Senate and the Emperor is now
strained beyond repair and as such the Confederacy, as well as a
number of Independent nations, have begun the recall of all
diplomatic staff. You may hear talk of parts of the Empire having
been
bombed back into the stone
age
, but for now the Confederation
will
not
be
sending forces into any part of the region in an attempt to bring
about stability.”

Dodds
had heard about the issues that were plaguing the Empire, the
events now a regular feature on news broadcasts. The trouble was
that, since it had become such a regular feature of the news, he
had almost stopped paying attention to it altogether. It was like
background noise to him.

His
eyes swept over Parks and Hawke
sitting either side of Turner. Each both looked straight at him, as
Turner did, their faces inexpressive. They were both in their
forties and of similar height, although Parks looked thinner than
Hawke, both in the body and face. Strands of silvery grey hair were
quite prominent throughout Parks
’
thinning black hair, but absent from
Hawke
’
s. Turner
by contrast was quite an old man. Dodds thought he was somewhere in
his early sixties, close to retirement age.

Dodds
had noticed when he entered the room that Parks seemed to have aged
a good ten years since he had last seen the man, looking older than
Hawke, despite being six or seven years younger. Strangely, Hawke
appeared much healthier by comparison. Fresh-faced, the man was
almost glowing.

“
And finally Lieutenant it is my privilege
to inform you -
”

Dodds detected a hint of sarcasm in the
admiral
’
s
voice.

“
- that you have been recommended and
subsequently selected for participation in the
Navy
’
s
latest technological endeavour. It is not a decision that I
entirely agree with -”

Parks
turned his head only a minute amount to acknowledge the accusing
look he was given by Admiral Turner.

“
- but your flight profile, along with
your
usual
ability to work well within a team, made you fit the
bill.”

“
Thank you, sir,” Dodds said. “It will be an honour to take
part.”

Turner
gave an unconvinced snort, then said, “Tell me, Lieutenant, has
anyone discussed with you anything about the ATAF
project?”

“
No, sir. No-one has ever mentioned it to me.”

“
As it should be,” Turner said. “The project is strictly on a
need-to-know basis and, as of this moment, you are not to discuss
it with anyone not directly involved in the evaluations. I must
warn you that to do so would result in a punishment far worse than
a mere suspension from service. Am I making myself
clear?”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Good. I believe that is all I wish to say,” Turner concluded,
sliding the papers in front of him back into their folder. “I did
not intend for this to be a long meeting, so I will wrap things up
here. Unless there is anything further that you wish to add,
Commodore?” He looked to Parks who shook his head. “Commodore?” His
attention turned to Hawke.

“
I must once again reiterate my objection
to this man
’
s reinstatement into active service, Admiral!” Hawke spat.
“The man is a cocky, arrogant insubordinate who is a danger to
himself, his squadron and the Navy
’
s very reputation.”

Dodds
gave an inward sigh. It felt as though the commodore had spent
several hours before the meeting rehearsing the line, so as to
deliver it without error for maximum effect. The moment Dodds had
entered the meeting room and seen Hawke seated alongside Turner and
Parks, he knew there would be problems.

“
I do not doubt for even one second that he will continue to
mock the chain of command within weeks of being back in control of
a starfighter,” Hawke went on, glaring at Dodds. “It would be
better for all of us if the man were reassigned to logistics where
he…”

“
Yes, that will do, Commodore, I am fully aware of your
objections,” interrupted the admiral, waving him down. “Thank you
for repeating your original statement, but I read it clearly the
first time.”

Hawke
turned back to look at Dodds, a dark scowl across his face. “No, I
have nothing further to add, Admiral,” he finished
dryly.

Dodds
felt a small sense of relief swell within him. How Hawke loved to
gloat. Should Turner have agreed with the man’s suggestion, Hawke’s
eyes would have been filled with that subtle, malicious
satisfaction; the very same pleasure that Dodds had seen register
during his court-martial, the moment the guilty verdict had been
brought against him. But not now. He had been denied such delight
today and would have to find it another time, in another place. And
preferably with someone else.

Dodds
’
eyes
were drawn to a crimson-red substance that was gathering just above
the commodore
’
s
top lip and noticed that Hawke
’
s nose had started to bleed. Hawke,
too, became aware of the flow and rummaged around in a pocket for a
handkerchief, producing it just as a drop of blood slid down from
his nose and splattered without a sound onto the table in front of
him.

Dodds
watched the man place the handkerchief under his nose and tip his
head back, attempting to control the flow, though Hawke kept his
eyes on him as he did so. It was not as though his nose was
gushing, but it was obvious it was more than a few drops. Dodds
found it strange that, though Parks and Turner looked over to the
man to see what the cause of his sudden discomfort was, they gave
it no more than a common courtesy before they turned back to the
starfighter pilot stood before them.

“
Good. We must press on gentlemen, time is
not a commodity we can currently afford to waste,” Turner said.
“Lieutenant Dodds, I am hereby returning you to duty. Commodore
Parks will brief you shortly.” He gestured to one of the guards
standing by the door who strode forward to
Dodds
’
side. “Mr Sears here will escort you to a suitable waiting
room where the commodore will meet you. You are dismissed,
Lieutenant.”

“
Thank you, sir,” Dodds said, saluting before replacing his
cap, picking up his bag of meagre belongings and making to
leave.

“
Lieutenant Dodds,” the
admiral
’
s
voice called to him as he crossed the room.

“
Sir?” Dodds stopped halfway to the door and turned around to
face the table again.

“
With regard to the statement that Commodore Hawke gave:
whilst the Navy does indeed need every good pilot it can get, I
will have absolutely no qualms whatsoever with immediately
dismissing from service any pilot whose actions put the lives of
others at risk; or whose reckless actions result in critical
mission failures, directly or indirectly. Do not let your selection
into the ATAF project and the early end to your suspension make you
believe you are invincible, Lieutenant. The day you do a good job,
I will be the one to let you know. Do you understand
that?”

“
Yes, sir. Fully, sir,” Dodds said, saluted once more and left
the meeting room.

III

—
Reunion —

D
odds jumped to his feet as he heard
the door of his assigned waiting room open, almost spilling the
glass of water he held. He stood to attention and saluted Parks as
the man entered.

“
At ease, Lieutenant,” Parks said. “Welcome back, Dodds; and
welcome to the Indigo system, I might add.”

The room
the pair stood in granted its occupants an appreciative view of the
planet below them, something that Dodds had spent the last
half-hour staring out at. He often made a habit of looking out at
the stars, sometimes just for the view, but frequently because it
helped him to think. He found the often tranquil views to be rather
therapeutic.