She was mad. No, mad wouldn't even begin to touch it. She was furious. Something had to be done, that good for nothing jerk of a man had ruined everything yet again. It was the final straw, the last time he would ever screw things up for her or for her crew. Minimal losses of life could be written off as failure on the part of the officers and soldiers. Collateral damage on the other hand, a full squadron of TIEs, that was something which would have to be explained, and Macy Tarika was damned if she was going to take the blame for it.
"Ma'am," came a voice from behind her, "I mean Sir . . . I mean Admiral." The woman turned around casting a cold icy glare at the young Lieutenant who was trying his very best to look crisp and proper in spite of the blush which threatened to turn his ears bright red.
"What is it?" the admiral asked keeping her tone sounding dangerous and sharp, like a straight razor held to his neck. The Lieutenant's blush deepened. He was new, Macy could tell just by the way he was trying to keep his pale blue eyes everywhere but on her. They all did that in the beginning. No young officer ever knew quite what to do with a high ranking female in command. Come to think of it, no older officer knew for certain either. Oh, they had their ideas certainly, but nothing that would be proper to mention out loud.
"I was saying, Admiral, that Major Daghtsun's team has recovered the remains of the final TIE." His voice cracked just a little as he spoke, and Macy nodded brusquely.
"Good," she said turning back toward the view-port. "Tell him to see if he can't find proof that it was Tarik's people. Dismissed." Macy watched the reflection of the lieutenant as he saluted and abruptly turned heel, all but rushing out of the room, the blush so strong that she could see it in his scalp beyond the close cropped blond hair.
The woman let out a sigh as the door swished shut, and turned her gaze out past the reflection of her ice blue eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, directing the question out to that vast sea of stars beyond the viewport. Of course no answer came, only the faint humming of the great destroyer's engines and the calming trickle of water over glass.
Only it wasn't calming today. That fountain, which the Correllian had been so enchanted by when she was younger, was only inches away from being smashed to bits. The sound of the water through its sparkling glass tubes and twinkling fiber optics was beginning to grate on Macy's nerves. If she could just catch Tarik in the act, if they could just find some hard evidence that this was all his fault. Maybe then she could calm down. Maybe then she could relax. The trouble was there was no evidence. There never was anything. The man seemed uncannily able to get away with murder.
Murder. Now there was a thought, again Macy sighed, this time moving to an armchair and flopping into its dull gray cushions. Maybe she could just kill Tarik without any evidence. It wasn't as if it was something that hadn't been done before. If he could do it then so could she. She would need a plan though, and that was where Macy wasn't precisely certain. Oh, she was marvelous at planning, but only when it was required for large scale combat operations. That was after all why she was a fleet admiral and not working under Iceheart in intelligence. Planning on a smaller scale, the sort which was required for diplomats and society matrons however, had always eluded her. She just wasn't cut out for it. Run in blasters blazing. That was more her speed. None of that sly sideways doubletalk, just a clean straightforward attack. Tarik would take more than that. He was too clever, too cunning, and he knew Admiral Tarika far too well.
The fountain gurgled and bubbled, going back from grating toward calming in Macy's mind as she let her heavy lids drift closed, her auburn hair loose and crowning her head in a bright swirl against the gray of the chair. There would be time to think of this tomorrow. Time then to worry about the little details of the incident. One thing Macy did know right now though, was she was exhausted. The admiral took a deep breath and let it out, then another, focusing on her breathing to help her fall asleep. One by one the images of the previous incidents floated across her vision. One by one she let them drift by, paying no attention to the memories of the mangled bodies, the broken and twisted metal. Slowly they began to blur and mix together and then, slowly, Macy drifted into the deep restful sleep she had been needing for a long time.