Vicky Peterwald: Target by Mike Shepherd Page B

that?”
    Vicky saw the problem. “Probably not well. Yet he turns a blind eye to his wife and her father, brothers, and uncles’ deep involvement in the same area, even when they are robbing him and the state blind.”
    “The Empress somehow manages to distract him from a great deal,” the admiral remarked, dryly, then added, “No doubt, if something were to attract her ire, he would immediately pay attention to it.”
    Vicky allowed herself to make a face. “I see the problem the Navy faces. The civil lifeblood of the state is poisoned. The Navy’s honor and professionalism will not allow it to either bleed the poison out or impose health from the outside.”
    “Throughout history, Navies have never served as a good tool for civil intervention,” the admiral said. “Armies are well known for making kings or unmaking them. That probably explains why Greenfeld has not had a standing army since it stood down following the Iteeche War.”
    “Grandfather was afraid of his returning generals,” Vicky muttered, as much to herself so she could hear her criticism of her family as to state the fact to those listening.
    “That wasn’t what he said when he did it,” Admiral Gort said, “but it’s the conclusion we all drew.”
    “Dad would have a hard time disbanding the Navy,” Vicky said. “It’s the one power base my stepmother can’t touch.”
    “Don’t be so sure,” the admiral said. “Most of what has come out from the space docks held by your stepmother’s faction has been junk that cost too much and needed a refit before we dared risk it in space. There are two expanded Terror-class battleships building at High Anhalt that from all reports are going to be perfect on their trials.”
    “That sounds nice,” Vicky said, knowing there was a huge “but” coming.
    The admiral provided it. “The Navy has sent six captains to command the ships. Two were relieved for cause, and the other four have suddenly been found to be indispensable elsewhere in the Empire. Indispensable by the palace, to be precise. Now, the palace has decided that we should have an infusion of new blood. These ships should be commanded by captains from outside the Imperial Navy establishment.”
    Vicky did not like the looks of where this was heading. “Who did the Empress decide should command these new ships?”
    “The
Emperor
has selected two former captains in the Wardhaven Navy. If you have been following the Longknife saga, you should recognize the name of one of them. Captain William Tacoma Thorpe.”
    “Wasn’t he Kris’s first commander, on the fast attack corvette
Typhoon
?” Vicky asked.
    “Yes, when his squadron commander ordered the corvettes to conduct a sneak attack on the Earth battle fleet at the Paris system.”
    “Oh,” Vicky said, eyes lighting up. “Is that why Earth gave her the Order of the Wounded Lion?”
    “You didn’t know that?” the admiral asked.
    “No. Kris is always very secretive about that bright blue ribbon and fancy starburst. He must be the commander she relieved. Now I better understand the whisper of mutiny around her. Oh, I can’t wait for the next time we get together! How I will dish the dirt on her!”
    “So you didn’t raid the entire database last night?” said the admiral.
    “No, sir. I didn’t download everything. As Mr. Smith said, I didn’t download anything extra intentionally. I’m not sure what parameters my computer used to decide what to swipe,” Vicky said, glancing at Mr. Smith.
    “It was on autopilot, sir,” he said to the admiral. “It looked for things like ‘admiral,’ ‘financial,’ and ‘economic,’ or other key words and grabbed for them. It didn’t peer very deeply into the data, just the headers. A more organized snatch would have taken more time.”
    “It’s nice to know that your computer, no matter how it may embarrass me, has limits,” Admiral Gort said, and glanced at his chief of staff. “Do we have any self-organizing matrix