Zephyr, Tau Ceti, 16.25.775 CW

23.5 megaseconds since the catastrophe

Elyah Singer once again awoke in a pleasant tangle of limbs, without an immediate memory of how she got that way. Memory returned faster, this time. Three-or-so megaseconds ago, she'd been hungover from enforced shore leave at Newer York when she awoke tangled up with Rachel O'Halloran. That time, it had taken her a bit to reconstruct how they got that way.

This time was just the usual morning muzziness combined with a change of routine. Singer wasn't really used to co-sleeping company. She needed a beat to re-orient herself.

Rachel had come back upwell a few shifts ago. She checked in at Robinson, and then used her diplomatic skills to convince Admiral Karenski to assign her back to Zephyr rather than an office on-station. Singer did not suppose for one moment that Karenski had been hoodwinked. Still, Robinson Station was a little strained for space and resources, like most surviving stations. There was no harm in letting Zephyr take on an extra person.

Karenski had "confirmed" her as ambassador-at-large, which was a wider remit than she had really expected. It was also unclear whether Karenski genuinely had any authority to assign diplomatic credentials, in the true Westphalian sense. His reasoning was that he could, at least, designate agents to speak for him, and he was the de facto government, so, it all came down to the same thing in the end. If someone chose not to accept O'Halloran's credentials because they didn't accept Karenski's authority, there wasn't a lot he could do about it

So far, however, that hadn't been an issue. Karenski had sent out a packet to everyone Tau Ceti currently had direct or indirect contact with. So far, David's Star, Thessaly, Kapteyn's Kingdom, and Tensixnine had all accepted both the premise and the credentials. Neptune Anchorage had deferred to David's Star, which crossed in the mail, so that was also a "yes". Neither Jove Junction nor New China had yet been heard from. Lots of small independent polities scattered throughout the surviving networks were likely just taking their time to decide if they even cared.

So, O'Halloran had been piped aboard. There had been a short briefing right after with Singer's officers, to make sure everyone was on the same page with current events. Then, O'Halloran spent a shift getting settled in to her quarters and "office". Logistics had assigned her a second cabin across the hall. Singer spent that shift in the hot seat and otherwise doing captain things.

They had taken their dinner together, along with Singer's officers, up on the observation deck. This was sort of the last vestige of the original designers' idea that the space was going to be an officer's lounge. It was being used occasionally as a de facto officer's mess, but only for occasions where the officers felt like a bit of privacy was called for. Otherwise, everyone ate less formally in Main Dining.

Then without making a fuss about it, Singer and O'Halloran had repaired to Singer's quarters, which were after all also her office. If O'Halloran had never actually left for her sleep shift, no one took note except the two people who mattered, and presumably the AIs.

Singer managed to crane her neck to look at the chronometer projected on the ceiling, trying not to disturb the tangle more than necessary. It was well before her usual wake-up time for her shift. She was unclear what had woken her.

Then she heard it again, quietly, respectfully: "Captain?"

It was Chef.

Singer sighed and held up one finger, hoping Chef would see it and understand she wanted him to wait. She carefully untangled herself, and was rewarded by a muttered protest that subsided almost immediately into O'Halloran's clear return to sleep. Then, Singer threw on a rarely-used bathrobe and slipped over to her office.

As soon as the hatch was closed behind her, she said, "Sorry, Chef. Go ahead."

Chef popped up on her desk screen. "Bridge reports a ship surfacing at the boundary, ma'am. Logged in as DSS Vincent Capozza, Admiral Donato commanding."

Singer blinked, held up a hand, blinked again, shook her head to clear it, then said, "Did you just say the Admiral of the Outbound has arrived himself?"

"Yes'm. Well, now that you mention it, no'm. He identified himself as CO of Vincent Capozza, not as Admiral of the Outbound. I'm not sure if that's significant or not. Anyway, Station Tower's handling them as traffic, of course, but it's a fair bet there'll be news coming down from them as soon as light-lag allows, and Karenski'll be calling not long after that. Ensign Garecki thought you'd like the heads-up."

"But was not feeling quite so bold to call me herself?"

Chef's craggy face on the screen was wry, but his voice was still even. "Could be, ma'am. Didn't ask."

Singer let that go while she chewed on the implications of Donato's unannounced arrival. As she recalled, Vincent had been intended to go to a Captain Erasmus, who was already likely to be peeved at missing his chance at Baldursdottir by being late. If the ship had arrived with Donato simply aboard, the login would have had Erasmus as CO, not Donato. Admirals, generally speaking, were merely high-ranking passengers, even on their flagship.

It could not mean anything remotely good that Donato had taken that ship out under his own command.

Before she could finish her rumination, Chef interrupted, "As expected, signal from Karenski. You wanna put on a uniform, or...?"

"Karenski's seen bathrobes before."

Chef gave her a look of mild disapproval, from which she gathered that Chef thought highly of his captain's dignity, even if she didn't, yet. She let it pass.

When Karenski came on screen, he, too, was in his bathrobe. So much for dignity. "Singer, don't you sleep?"

"Bridge woke me when Vincent surfaced at the boundary."

Karenski looked puzzled and said, "I'd have thought they'd shorten it to Capozza."

"As I understand it, sir, the namesake was widely known by his first name, and ships named for him tend to use that as their short form."

"Learn something new every day! Anyway, they'll have told you who's in the hot seat, too, I take it?"

"Yup. I'm trying not to speculate as to what might be so dire that Silverman would allow him to come in person. Or did she throw him out and now he's looking for work?"

That got a genuine laugh out of Karenski, who looked like he could use one. "We actually know very little about why he's here. Other than the standard login message, they tell us they're already on their way downwell without waiting, but ask for permission to match orbits. Given the comms lag and the apparent urgency, I'll overlook the breach of protocol. Between you and Lilio it's getting crowded over here, but we'll make do. Tower'll send you ephemerides later so there's no confusion.

"The only other message was text, which I've forwarded to your queue. Read it. It's short. Then read what the text refers to. That's not short. That should keep you from sleeping for at least a megasecond. Expect a meeting of all relevant people as soon as everyone can be gotten into a room, including our Thessalian friends. I'll be briefing your friend Josefilo after I clear with you. Feel free to brief the ambassador at large, as well. She'll be included."

He managed to say that last part with a completely straight face and not a single waggled eyebrow. Despite the distance, Singer still had the impression that had taken a supreme effort of control on his part.

"I think that's all," he continued. "They'll be a little while getting downwell enough, and once here, they'll apparently need some repairs. They pushed hard getting here fast. The bad news is, they broke your record; the good news is, Zephyr made several stops along the way and never had to push as hard, so you're probably still faster."

"I'm sure Señor Espinoza will be glad of that, sir."

Karenski took a deep breath, like he wanted to say more, but didn't know what. Finally, he said, "Read your mail, and I'll be in touch. Karenski clear on your final."

"Singer clear."

The screen switched to her mailbox—Chef of course had been listening. She gestured for the top entry, which was clearly the forward from Donato, which read:

New China. Black Twenty.
Admiral Donato, CO, _Vincent Capozza_

Singer did not need to chase the link or search for "Black Twenty". She would anyway, but she'd was pretty sure she knew from her past studies.

She took a moment to catch her breath and find her voice, then said, "Chef?"

Subdued, the answer came, "Yes'm?"

"Wake the XO. Ask zir to come see me in two kilos unless ze needs longer to wake up. Be clear about that—I want zir awake and alert."

"Yes'm. Should I wake Miss O'Halloran, too?"

Singer considered that, on a number of tangled levels. She could use the comfort of Rachel's presence. As an ambassador, she would certainly need to know as soon as she was awake what was happening.

But she'd looked so peaceful, sleeping, when Singer had left the bed. She sighed at the memory.

"No. I'll do it."