Free A Savage War Of Peace (Ark Royal Book 5) by Christopher Nuttall Page A

nothing more than defend Fort Knight, look after the former hostages and wait for the diplomats - and reinforcements.  “I have no intention of making a bad situation worse before the diplomats arrive.”
     
    “It's been six months,” Fanwood said.  “How long do you intend to stay here?”
     
    Percy snorted.  “I suppose we could always walk home,” he said, sarcastically.  “You could always invent surface-to-surface wormholes if you have nothing else to do.”
     
    He shook his head.  “I knew we would be trapped here for months,” he added.  “We didn't really have a choice.”
     
    “Hah,” Fanwood said.
     
    He nodded to Percy, then turned and walked out of the hatch, closing it firmly behind him.  Percy sighed, then looked back at his datapad, resting on the desk.  He had reports to write, even though there was little to say.  And, no matter what he said to Fanwood, there were times when he wondered if they’d been abandoned on Vesy.  It shouldn't have taken more than a couple of months for a ship to arrive from Earth.
     
    They’re probably still bickering about what to do , he thought, as he picked up the datapad and started to type in his next report.  A whole new alien race ... they have to see opportunities here.  And while they’re arguing, we’re quartered safe out here.
     
    He shook his head.  Whatever else could be said about Fanwood, the man was right about at least one thing.  Vesy might not remain safe for very long.

Chapter Six
     
    “Rather cramped, isn't it?”
     
    Ambassador Joelle Richardson did her best to ignore Grace Scott’s comment as she followed the young midshipman into the Officer’s Mess.  HMS Warspite was small, compared to the fleet carrier she’d travelled on during a brief visit to Tadpole-Prime, and her quarters were correspondingly tiny.  Joelle didn't particularly care - she’d slept in worse places - but some of her staff had been moaning and groaning ever since they’d seen the small compartments they were expected to share.
     
    The Officer’s Mess didn't look any larger than her office on Earth, although it was a great deal more barren.  Each of the bulkheads was painted white - one held a painting of Warspite that, she assumed, had been done by one of the crew - and the table was plain metal, covered in white paint.  The idea of hosting a diplomatic discussion in such surroundings was laughable, although she had a feeling that it would help the diplomats to come to a quicker resolution.  Or, the more cynical part of her mind suggested, start them issuing declarations of war. 
     
    “Ambassador Richardson,” a voice said.  She looked up to see the Captain rising from his chair and walking around the table to greet her.  “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet you earlier.”
     
    “That’s quite all right,” Joelle assured him, taking his hand and shaking it briskly.  Her staff had complained, loudly, but she knew from prior experience that starship crews had a great deal of work to do before their ships could depart.  “It’s easier to get settled in before we meet formally.”
     
    She studied the Captain with some interest as she let go of his hand.  He was tall, his dark hair cropped close to his scalp, his face lined in a manner that reminded her of far too many other combat veterans.  His piercing blue eyes would have been attractive, she suspected, if she hadn't sensed a single-minded purposefulness surrounding him.  The dark uniform he wore showed off his muscular body to best advantage.
     
    And he went down to a planet to confront rebels in person , she thought.  The media had made much of it, even though a number of talking heads had condemned Captain Naiser for leaving his ship in an emergency situation.  This is a brave man .
     
    “Please, be seated,” the Captain said, indicating a row of chairs.  “We took the liberty of having food shipped up from Earth.”
     
    “Thank you,” Joelle