Zero-Option | Page 9

her wine and eyed him shrewdly over the rim of the glass.
Imbrahim looked up at her and smiled apologetically, abruptly conscious of the fact that he had been attacking his meal with manners not much better than those of a lower deck hand. "You'll have to forgive me, Captain," he said. "It's been more than a day since I last ate. I hadn't realized how hungry I was."
"Ah," she breathed, a wry look in her eyes. "It would appear then, that we weren't the only ones caught off guard by Admiralty."
Indeed not, thought Imbrahim. He'd been called in and given little more than a few hours to prepare himself. A few hours in which to familiarize himself with the matter at hand, but not enough time to do it justice. I'm flying blind, he told himself; and so, he observed somewhat fearfully, was Jhordel. That was not a particularly pleasant thought.
"It has occurred to me, Commander," she said casually, "that when you briefed us earlier you failed to mention one alternative means of achieving our objective."
He frowned and regarded her quizzically. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir."
Jhordel surveyed her table with a lazy eye, taking in the faces of the other command officers seated about it. Finally her gaze drifted back to Imbrahim; but there was a harder edge to it now.
"I've spent a few hours reviewing the charts," she said at length. "We have some fairly decent information on most of the transit points located throughout the Empire, both in the Unity and in the Federation."
Imbrahim swallowed, beginning to sense where she was headed.
She grinned at him, a feral grin, and he saw in that instant a flash of the cold and calculating ruthlessness that had made her so feared by the Unity and so vaunted by Carter and Jackson. "I believe there may be a transit point that can bring us to within a couple of days sublight travel from the last suspected positions of the Niagara and the probes."
Imbrahim slowly set down his fork and picked up the napkin in his lap. He dabbed at his lips, suddenly no longer hungry.
"I'm sure Admiralty considered all possibilities," he said, finally finding his voice.
"Perhaps," said Jhordel; but he could tell it didn't matter to her whether they had or hadn't. She would do things her way, as she had done so most of her life since Obidian.
"Using a transit point in Unity space would be courting an unnecessary risk on a mission that may well be fraught with far greater peril than any of us are welling to concede," he argued. He looked quickly around the table and saw the others were gaping at him. Gaping at them. Him and Jhordel. And he realized, then, that they were as astonished as he about this bombshell the captain had dropped.
"The risk involved is relatively minor," Jhordel insisted. "We can make the jump directly to the Unity point, then use it to jump to our objective. Our time in Unity space would be limited."
"You make it sound like a leisurely stroll through the countryside," he accused.
She shrugged.
"With all due respect, Captain, aren't all Unity points guarded?"
"Afraid of a little action, Commander?" she chided.
"Afraid we might jeopardize our mission, sir."
"You worry too much, Mister Imbrahim." Jhordel addressed her officers with a knowing look. "Have a little faith."
"That's for the Reds, I'm afraid," he muttered sourly.
She blinked, caught off guard by this retort; and then she suddenly guffawed, throwing her head back and laughing loudly. Others around the table joined in, until even Imbrahim found himself smiling at the joke.
"We'll make a spacers out of you yet, Mister Imbrahim." She gave him a sly look as she raised her glass in a toast. "Success," she declared, glancing around the table.
"Success!" they all chanted as one.
But as Imbrahim sipped his wine and studied them, he wondered if they truly understood the potential danger into which they would all soon be plunged. And then he almost laughed, because of course they did. They had seen the face of death many times, in many guises. They had stared into its eyes and lived to tell the tale. Every moment they were out there fighting the Unity they lived with the knowledge that each breath they breathed might very well be their last.
He shuddered, struck by the absurdity of this scene. Here they were, wining and dining, resplendent in their finery, acting as though all were perfect in the universe. But it wasn't. They were at war. Had been for more than two decades. They lived in a world of uncertainty, never knowing when they went out into the deeps of space if they would ever return. It was a sobering existence. And a brutally lonely one. Under such circumstances it seemed fruitless to