Was all the blame his? As Commander, it was his responsibility to maintain control, to prevent a crewman from even thinking that mutiny was a possibility.

He sighed. Maybe he should have told his crew what he was attempting... but there had simply been no time. And certainly, no time for discussion as Jaggers would have wanted. No. The other bridge officers had concerns, but they had followed his orders, as their duty required.

As much as Commander Keyes believed in giving people a second chance, this was where he drew the line.

To make matters worse, transferring Jaggers would leave a hole in the bridge crew.

Commander Keyes accessed the service records of Iroquois’ junior officers. There were several who might qualify for navigation officer. He flipped through their files on his data pad, and then paused.

The theoretical paper on mass-space compression was still open, as well as his hastily calculated course corrections.

He smiled and archived those notes. He might one day give a lecture on this battle at the Academy. It would be useful to have the original source material.

There was also the data from the Archimedes Sensor Outpost. That report had been thoroughly made: clean data graphs and a navigational course plotted for the object through Slipstream space—not an easy task even with an AI. The report even had tags to route it to the astrophysics section of the UNSC. Thoughtful.

He looked up the service record of the officer who had filed the report: Ensign William Lovell.

Keyes leaned closer. The boy’s Career Service Vitae was almost twice as long as his own. He had volunteered and been accepted at Luna Academy. He transferred in his second year, having already received a commission to Ensign for heroism in a training flight that had saved the entire crew. He took duty on the first outbound corvette headed into battle. Three Bronze Stars, a Silver Cluster, and two Purple Hearts, and he had catapulted to a full Lieutenant within three years.

Then something went terribly wrong. Lovell’s decline in the UNSC had been as rapid as his ascent. Four reports of insubordination and he was busted to Second Lieutenant and transferred twice. An incident with a civilian woman—no details in the files, although Commander Keyes wondered if the girl listed in the report, Anna Gerov, was Vice Admiral Gerov’s daughter.

He had been reassigned to the Archimedes Sensor Outpost, and had been there for the last year, an unheard of length of time in such a remote facility.

Commander Keyes reviewed the logs when Lovell had been on duty. They were careful and intelligent. So the boy was still sharp... was he hiding?

There was a gentle knock on his door.

“Lieutenant Dominique, I said I was not to be disturbed.”

“Sorry to intrude, son,” said a muffled voice. The pressure door’s wheel turned and Admiral Stanforth stepped inside. “But I thought I’d just stop by since I was in the neighborhood.”

Admiral Stanforth was much smaller in person than he appeared on-screen. His back was stooped over with age, and his white hair was thinning at the crown. Still, he exuded a reassuring air of authority that Keyes instantly recognized.

“Sir!” Commander Keyes stood at attention, knocking over his chair.

“At ease, son.” The Admiral looked around his quarters, and his gaze lingered a moment on the framed copy of Lagrange’s original manuscript in which he derived his equations of motion. “You can pour me a few fingers of the whiskey, if you can spare it.”

“Yes, sir.” Keyes fumbled with another plastic cup and poured the Admiral a drink.

Stanforth took a sip, then sighed appreciatively. “Very nice.”

Keyes righted his chair and offered it to the Admiral.

He sat down and leaned forward. “I wanted to congratulate you personally on the miracle you performed here, Keyes.”

“Sir, I don’t—”

Stanforth held up a finger. “Don’t interrupt me, son. That was a helluva piece of astrogation you pulled off. People noticed. Not to mention the morale boost it’s given to the entire fleet.” He took another sip of the liquor and exhaled. “Now, that’s the reason we’re all here. We need a victory. It’s been too damn long—us getting whittled to pieces by those alien bastards. So this has got to be a win. No matter what it takes.”

“I understand, sir,” Commander Keyes said. He knew morale had been sagging for years throughout the UNSC. No military, no matter how well trained, could stomach defeat after defeat without it affecting their determination in battles.

“How is it going planetside?”

“Right now don’t you worry about that.” Admiral Stanforth eased back in his chair, balancing on two legs. “General Kits has his troops down there. They’ve got the surrounding cities evacuated, and they’ll be assaulting Côte d’Azur within the hour. They’ll paste those aliens faster than you can spit. You just watch.”

“Of course, sir.” Commander Keyes looked away.

“You got something else to say, boy? Spit it out.”

“Well, sir... this isn’t the way the Covenant normally operates. Dropping an invasion force and leaving the system? They either slaughter everything or die trying. This is something altogether different.”

Admiral Stanforth waved a dismissive hand. “You leave trying to figure out what those aliens are thinking to the spooks in ONI, son. Just get the Iroquois patched up and fit for duty again. And you let me know if you need anything.”

Stanforth knocked back the last of his whiskey and stood. “Got to marshal the fleet. Oh—” He paused. “One more thing.” He dug into his jacket pocket and retrieved a tiny cardboard box. He set it on the Commander’s desk. “Consider it official. The paperwork will catch up with us soon enough.”

Commander Keyes opened the box. Inside were a pair of brass collar insignia: four bars and a single star.

“Congratulations, Captain Keyes.” The Admiral snapped a quick salute, then held out his hand.

Keyes managed to grasp and shake the Admiral’s hand. The insignia was real. He was stunned. He couldn’t say anything.

“You’ve earned it.” The Admiral started to turn. “Give me a shout if you need anything.”

“Yes, sir.” Keyes stared at the brass star and stripes a moment longer then finally tore his gaze away. “Admiral... there is one thing. I need a replacement navigation officer.”

Admiral Stanforth’s relaxed posture stiffened. “I heard about that. Ugly business when a bridge officer loses their stomach. Well, you just say the candidate’s name and I’ll make sure you get him... as long as you’re not pulling him off my ship.” He smiled. “Keep up the good work, Captain.”

“Sir!” Captain Keyes saluted.

The Admiral stepped out and closed the door.

Keyes practically fell into his chair.

He had never dreamed they’d make him a Captain. He turned the brass insignia over in his palm and replayed his conversation with Admiral Stanforth in his mind. He had said, “Captain Keyes.” Yes. This was real.

The Admiral had also brushed aside his concerns about the Covenant too quickly. Something didn’t quite add up.

Keyes clicked on the intercom. “Lieutenant Dominique: track the Admiral’s shuttle when he leaves. Let me know which ship he’s on.”

“Sir? We had an Admiral aboard? I wasn’t informed.”

“No, Lieutenant, I suspect you weren’t. Just track the next outbound shuttle.”

“Aye, sir.”

Keyes looked back on his data pad and reread Ensign Lovell’s CSV. He couldn’t take back what had happened with Jaggers—there could be no second chance for him. But maybe he could somehow balance the books by giving Lovell another chance.

He filled out the necessary paperwork for the transfer request. The forms were long and unnecessarily complex. He transmitted the files to UNSC PERSCOM and sent a copy directly to Admiral Stanforth’s staff.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Dominique’s voice broke over the intercom. “That shuttle docked with the Leviathan.”