slipped easily between his ribs. A quick turn of the blade, slicing through aorta and heart, then a heel-palm strike to the back of the head, and the man fell forward on top of Carristan without a sound. Thraka prided himself on being a professional, on knowing how to do these things without creating a fuss.
Again Thraka cleaned off the blood, then grabbed the drugged and obedient Delilah by the wrist and pulled her into her dressing room. He sat her down, carefully scrubbed her face to remove her makeup, pulled her hair back, and tied it in an unattractive ponytail behind her head. From his pockets he produced a small, white lace cap and shawl, common attire for servant women, and adjusted them carefully on her. It wouldn’t work if someone looked at her closely, or if she’d been wearing some sort of elaborate gown. But removing the makeup and altering the hairstyle to something unattractive completely changed the woman’s appearance. Then add a few visual cues that made everyone immediately think servant, and she became virtually invisible, especially accompanied by him, another servant.
Of course, the chaos at every turn helped immeasurably. Thraka pulled the compliant young woman through the public corridors without incident, and met up with two of the men from the tramp freighter. They brought a cloak that covered her even more. And when the docking gantry nudged the freighter away from the station, Thraka breathed a long sigh of relief.
CHAPTER 31
OLD DEBTS
The numbers had improved. Nadama and Goutain had lost twenty-five ships, with an additional ten heavily damaged. The coalition had only lost four, plus two heavily damaged, so first engagement had been an unquestioned victory for the coalition. But that still left Nadama and Goutain with more than sixty undamaged fighting ships, while, excluding the hunter-killers, the coalition had a little over forty, including those with Charlie. And considering the fact that three of Charlie’s cruisers weren’t ready for battle, and Nadama and Goutain had a preponderance of big battleships and heavy cruisers, the situation was indeed dire. Nadama and Goutain had come prepared to bombard Andyne-Borregga into radioactive vapor.
“Duke Charles,” Winston said.
Charlie looked up from his screens. “Yes, Winston, what is it?”
“You need to make a speech, Your Grace. Broadcast it to the entire system . . . and to the enemy.”
“I don’t make speeches.”
Winston smiled like a patient father. “You are the supreme commander of the coalition forces. You need to show yourself to the people fighting for you, you need to tell them what they’re fighting for, and you need to tell your enemies why they won’t win.”
Above all, Charlie understood that he was a soldier, and when Winston put it that way, he could not deny the power of the visible presence of command. They quickly scratched out a few words, though they didn’t have time to get elaborate so Charlie would have to fake much of it. And they had to get back into transition so he’d have to keep it short.
They called in a technician, and Winston appeared first on camera to say, “I give you His Grace, Charles, Duke de Lunis, supreme commander of all coalition forces.”
Charlie sat down in front of the camera, took a calming breath, and spoke.
“It may surprise you that I, a soldier, do not condone war, but I despise tyranny more, and if need be I will die to eradicate it. I won’t claim to be without fault, but my greatest sin is the sin of all commanding officers: I will ask others to die as well. Tyranny is a cancer that will grow if not stopped, and the oppressive annexation of Aagerbanne and Finalsa cannot be allowed to continue.”
Charlie and Winston had considered including the oppression of the Syndonese people in that, but doing so might force them into an offensive war against the republic, and they just didn’t have the resources for that. Winston had said, “A good king is always a practical king.”
Charlie continued. “We have an alliance that includes all of Aagerbanne, the independent states, and several of the Ten, so today is the day we will stop this tyranny. We are in the right and we will be victorious, but cutting out a cancer can be painful. I long ago learned victory is never grand or sweet. In my experience we will find only relief when the dying has stopped. But fight on, do not waver, and soon we will end this.”