
Originally Posted by
Firsborn
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE CAN’T RAISE THEM?”
Valerian’s voice was low and carefully controlled. His father had taught him this. There will be times when you’ll want more than anything to shout at people, and to follow that up with a good throttling. Resist the impulse, son, Arcturus had said. If you scream at them, all they’ll hear is the volume. And if you throttle them, why, and he had laughed and taken a sip of port, it makes it hard for them to talk.
So now, when Valerian wanted very badly indeed to shout at Whittier and then throttle him—or perhaps execute both maneuvers simultaneously—he curbed the impulse and kept his voice and manner calm. Such was not the way of a true warrior, nor a future emperor. He knew from the way the color drained from Whittier’s face, however, that he hadn’t managed to control the fury in his eyes. He would have to work on that.
“Simply what I said, sir. According to our charts, they haven’t moved from their position in several hours. And no one is responding to our queries.”
Valerian breathed deeply. A vein in his temple was throbbing and he put a manicured hand up to physically calm the agitated vessel. He inhaled the scents that he loved: the smell of leather and polished wood, the spicy aroma of pipe tobacco. It calmed him. A little.
“I see.” His voice was composed now, and he lowered his hand. “Well, it sounds like something has happened. Was there any evidence of an attack?”
Relieved to see his employer calming, Whittier turned back to the screen. His long, thin fingers flew as he called up image after image.
“Negative, sir. There is no debris in the area, no trace of enemy vessels. If the protoss had hit, we’d be seeing energy residue; if it was the zerg... well, sir, you know as well as I we’d be seeing floating debris and nothing else.”
He knew his aide was right. The Gray Tiger had not been attacked.
Not from the outside, anyway.
“Call up the bios of Ramsey’s team again,” he said. Whittier wisely did not remind Valerian that this was the fifth time he had asked his assistant to do so, and simply obeyed the command. Valerian’s jaw tightened as his gray eyes flickered over the information. But this time, he was reading the little reports with an eye toward who in Ramsey’s team might have tried to instigate an escape.