Free Falcone Strike by Christopher Nuttall Page B

departure time had been moved up. He shook his head in wry amusement—clearly, they were keen to be rid of him now that he’d outlived his usefulness—and then changed back into his uniform. It felt good to be wearing a proper uniform once again.
    Janice met him as he left his cabin for the final time, his carryall slung over his shoulder. “I took the liberty of adding a note to your file about your work for us,” she said, falling into step beside him. “Your career won’t suffer for it.”
    “Thank you,” William said dryly. Given his lack of aristocratic connections, it wasn’t likely a link with intelligence could do any more harm. But at least it would look as though he hadn’t spent the last six months twiddling his thumbs instead of overseeing Lightning’s repairs or simply being assigned to another ship. “That’s very considerate of you.”
    Janice beamed. “Your commander may be in some trouble,” she added. “Telling truth to someone who has no power can be more dangerous than telling truth to power.”
    William shrugged. Kat Falcone had, arguably, defied her superior officer’s orders at Cadiz and gotten away with it. The scale of the offense had been so great that even being right —and she had been right—might not have saved her career if she’d been anyone else. It was unlikely she’d be in real trouble, unless she’d punched the king in the face. Striking the monarch was pretty definitely treason . . .
    “I’m sure I’ll hear about it on the news,” he said. He hadn’t been interested in domestic affairs, merely news of the war. Even though it was sanitized, he knew enough to be able to read between the lines. “Is it likely to cause real problems? ”
    “ Matter of opinion,” Janice said. They paused outside the shuttlebay. “Good luck, William.”
    “You too,” William said. He wasn’t blind to the true reason Janice had escorted him off the asteroid personally. She’d want to make sure he left, even though it was impossible for someone to remain in the complex without being noticed. “Be seeing you.”
    He stepped through the hatch and into the shuttlebay, where a large shuttle waited for him. It would be at least nine hours to Hyperion, he was sure; there would be no swift jump through hyperspace for him . But he’d have a chance to get some sleep, thankfully. He’d need to be on alert when he boarded Lightning for the first time in six months.
    The pilot greeted him curtly, showed him where to stow his bag in the cabin, and then returned to the cockpit, leaving William alone. He sighed, then glanced at the other passengers: three men wearing black uniforms and a woman wearing civilian clothes, her hair falling down to her shoulders. Her face would have been attractive, he was sure, if she hadn’t been sneering at the datapad in her hand. He sat down and opened his datapad as he felt the shuttle power up its drives, then put his device aside. It would be better to get some sleep before it was too late.
    He must have fallen asleep quickly, because the next thing he knew, the pilot was announcing the approach to Hyperion. William took the opportunity to go to the fresher and splash water on his face, then he followed the others off the shuttle as soon as it docked. A grim-faced officer pointed him towards another shuttle, one designed for shorter hops. William sat next to the pilot and watched as he flew towards a large repair station. Lightning was clearly recognizable, but the ships hanging next to it were ancient. It made no sense to him.
    Unless she’s in real trouble , he thought. Those ships might be her next command .
    Captain Kat Falcone met him at the airlock as soon as the shuttle docked with Lightning . She looked older than he remembered, although her face was unchanged; she held herself like an experienced officer rather than someone doubting her fitness for the command chair. Her long blonde hair, tied into a ponytail, hung down her back; William