Heart of Steel: Book II of the Jonathan Pavel Series (4 page)

“If I may Heather, allow me to introduce my old CO Jonathan Pavel.”

“A pleasure ladies, “ Jonathan said tipping his cap.

“So glad to make your acquaintance Captain,” Heather replied offering her hand which Jonathan shook.

“So good to see you again Captain,” said Bethany adding with a sultry tone to her voice.

“Bethany heel,” Heather said in a flat, ironic tone.

Jonathan, for his part, kept his handshake with Trendale’s sister as brief as possible. William Trendale had become a close friend of Jonathan's, but it was a fact of life that Bethany Trendale was a complete slut, albeit  a very good looking slut, who was often more effective than a heat-seeking missile once she’d found a target. Jonathan found it best to avoid being that target, and to resist his own temptation by spending as little time in close proximity to her as possible. Having finished the pleasantries, Jonathan excused himself and made a beeline across the room toward the one person he’d spied when he first entered.  Jonathan knew he needed to have words with her especially while he was still sober enough to speak in complete sentences. Standing in the corner of the room looking at a very expensive painting by some long dead Valhallan artist, was an older woman in a fashionable purple dress with a black mourning band on her arm. Taking off his cap, Jonathan came up next to her respectfully, “Ms. Halman?”

The women turned and looked at him, “Oh, I’m sorry sir. Do I know you?” Her accent was as upper crust as they came, but the malice and smugness one expected from people whose blood was bluer than the sea was absent.

“I’m Lt. Captain Pavel your son's old CO,” Jonathan said respectfully.

Glorianna Halman nodded and tears came to her eyes, “Oh, yes. Sorry Captain I should have known.”

Jonathan put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “I just wanted to let you know Marcus was a good man, and a good officer and he will be missed.” Glorianna nodded and teared up even more.

Jonathan gave her a reassuring pat. In honesty, Jonathan had no fondness for Marcus Halman in life. He had been a jumped up little shit of a Lieutenant who made a point of walking too close to the line, which separated disrespectful from insubordinate. Still, with three Colonial warships bearing down on
Titan,
he’d done his duty and died at his station the way any good officer would. Eugene Halman might blame his nephew's death on
Titan’s
Captain, but as far as Jonathan could tell Glorianna held no such feelings. Jonathan had found out from Will, who’d snaked it out of Heather, that Glorianna was a bit of an innocent with the real world.  She lived in a bubble of society parties, charity events, plays, and operas. Her husband had left when Marcus was a small boy for reasons Heather had never worked out, and left Glorianna alone with a son she doted on. A son who had died under Jonathan's command. Jonathan had a mother, and the least he could do for a grieving woman was speak well of her dead son. It wasn't too onerous of a task either. If the late Lt. Halman had earned a little self discipline, or at least how to be less of an absolute prig,  he might have been a good officer. Being honest with himself, Jonathan knew offering Glorianna Halman his condolences was  also advantageous to him. The Senate lacked any direct power over who the Navy could post where, but Senators, especially senior Senators like Eugene Halman, wielded enormous power through the old boys network. His distaste for the young Lt. Captain Pavel was enough to keep Jonathan's efforts to officially be reassigned in limbo. Of course if Eugene were to ever reverse his position on Jonathan, he could hardly make a speech about it on the Senate floor, and it wasn't a topic of conversation to be raised in the club rooms of the Capital. No he’d need to make some gesture such as  inviting the young upstart to his family estate as part of the holiday festivities. This was one of the many reasons Jonathan was listening to Glorianna Halman drone on about her dear boy on First Planting Eve, rather than getting very drunk in the River Front district the way he wanted to. The fact that Halman’s niece and not he had extended Jonathan the invitation was not something any Landed, least among them the standard bearer for proper form, was going to admit. So, for all intents and purposes, the cloud of disapproval cast by the Senator was lifted and hopefully Jonathan thought listening to the poor, tearful  Glorianna go on about Marcus’s love of baseball, it would help unstick his currently stuck career.

Finally, around 23:00 Glorianna retired thanking Jonathan once more for coming to offer his condolences. Jonathan wished her a good night, and then made a beeline for the bar staying well away from her fuming brother.

The great Landed families might not be what they once were, but they did know how to lay down a spread. The bite size appetizers being circulated by purple and gold uniformed waiters were of the highest quality and most expensive; caviar, foie gras, slip fish liver. Even poached Crag Dragon eggs were served,  which seemed a bit unpatriotic to eat seeing as how the great mountain predators were one of the official symbols of the Republic, but they were delicious.  Also present was quail wrapped in bacon, stuffed peppers, smoked Lox fish, New Bengal passion fruit, and actual Teja Mastiff meat thinly sliced and sauteed in mushrooms. The bar, or rather the three bars strategically positioned around the room to prevent crowding, were as impressive as the appetizers. A vast variety of fine wines and imported beers shared shelf space with 300 year old whiskeys, and actual Terran Vodka. Jonathan handed his flask to the bartender, pointed at the New De La Platta bourbon, a drink he personally knew cost per bottle what he made in a month and said, “Fill her up.”

Taking his flask and a well made cocktail, Jonathan played a strategic game of hello and hide and seek with his unwilling host. He made sure to greet as many people as possible, so it couldn't be denied he’d been here while staying well away from Eugene Halman. It didn't last long. Three cocktails and half a flask later, Jonathan, who had stopped to rest on the balcony overlooking the dance floor where Nathan and WIlliam were twirling Zeta and Heather among the other party goers,  felt a very forceful tap on his shoulder.

Turning, Jonathan saw the grinning visage of Senator Eugene Halman whose face reminded him very much of one of those funeral masks some cultures were so fond of.

“Why Commander Pavel. I had
No
idea you were coming to our little party,” the Senator said all smiles, while his eyes screamed murder.
 
Jonathan took a swig of his flask and offered it to the Senator, who didn't break eye contact with Jonathan but continued to glare daggers. 
“Sorry to hear you weren't informed Senator, I was sure that Will had mentioned that Heather told you. Must've slipped your mind old age and all that.”

If Jonathan had wanted to be diplomatic, that was precisely the wrong thing to say, but at this point thanks to the copious amount of alcohol he’d imbibed Jonathan didn't particularly care about being diplomatic.

The Senator's eyes narrowed and he lowered his voice to a whisper which was menacing,  “You know I’d almost forgotten about you. I hadn't forgotten poor Marcus but
you...
you jumped up little Provo prick. You’d just about slipped my mind, but now you're at the very top of my shit list.”

Jonathan looked at the old man. He seemed so much smaller in person than he did on the holo-vids. Though he no doubt meant himself to look intimidating, Jonathan felt no fear. In fact, all he felt was vindication. He feigned a salute and keeping his face a mask of respect replied, “Due respect sir, but am I supposed to know who you are?”

Whatever old Halman had expected Jonathan to say that wasn't it. The Senator’s face twisted and turned a renewed shade of purple. He let the rage flow through him though, and with a Politician's practice lowered his voice instead of raising it.

“You know very well who I am you Provo scum, I’m Eugene Halman and you..you upstart, you are the man who murdered my nephew through your gross negligence and incompetent leadership..”

Halman looked to go on but Jonathan interrupted him, “If you’ll forgive me
Senator,
” Jonathan's use of the title lacked any trace of reverence and respect.

“It’s not my fault your nephew died. In fact, I rather regret he did just as I regret every other casualty suffered under my command. Your nephew wasn't a bad officer and if he had been less of a prick I might of liked him, but I’m sure he had you to thank for his false notions of superiority.”

Halman seemed dumbfounded by the remark. He seemed lost for words at first, but then the rage returned to his eyes.

“You're going to pay for this you bastard. You come into my house and insult me and the memory of my beloved nephew.”

“No, I came to offer condolences to the mother of one of my fallen officers.” Jonathan’s grin turned wicked as he drew himself up to his full, if not very impressive height. Still his broad shouldered bulk and boxer frame was enough to cause the wizened Senator to take a step back. Jonathan looked at the man levelly.

“Believe it or not, you don’t scare me old man. I know it’s unusual for you to hear that even from men in uniform, but I’m no staff ninny. I’m a fighting Captain. My chosen profession involves having depleted uranium slugs hurled at me by people who quite literally want to
kill
me. I’ve led men into combat, I saw one of those lads not too long ago, couldn’t have been much older than nineteen he had half his face burned off, and you know what he offered? To follow me anywhere. So go ahead call me incompetent, call me anything you like from that purple cushion where you park your useless ass in the Senate, you crotchety old bastard. Since its been about 150 years since you could have me publicly whipped for tracking dirt on your shiny, new carpet, I invite you to do your worst,” Jonathan paused for a moment, then finished with a perfectly respectful, “Sir.”

Halman looked as if he were going to have apoplexy right there. The Senator’s shrunken hands curled into fists and Jonathan could tell the old man wanted to hit him badly, but instead the Senator turned and stalked away.

“Well that was impressive,” Jonathan turned to see Bethany standing near by grinning from ear to ear.

“How much of that did you hear?” Jonathan asked.

“Enough to know you might not live to see the morning.”

“Well isn’t that the theme of the festivities this year? Let us be merry for tomorrow,” Jonathan took a swig of his flask and offered it to Bethany.

“Carpe Diem I suppose,” she said saluting.

Jonathan’s ears picked up at the phrase. “You know Latin Bethany?”

“
Et scietis quia ego sum,
” she said with a wink. “Some of what they drilled into us in those boarding schools sunk in. Do you speak any, if I recall Will said your education was a bit informal.”

“As informal as possible with a mother from high society and a father who was raised by Jesuits. I don’t speak any, but I know the phrases we use  in the
Stellanauta
ceremonies.”

“I know, it’s a lovely religion,” Bethany’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Don’t tell Will, but I go by the Temple whenever he’s in space.”

“I didnt..” Jonathan said a bit stunned.

“He didn’t either, I did want to thank you by the way,” Bethany said, putting her hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Not just for bringing him home but for whatever you did for him. He’s a changed man.”

Jonathan shrugged off her gentle touch and nodded, “All I did was give him the ass kicking he needed.”

Bethany smiled, “Oh, I know. Why is it though you flinch every time I get near you? Afraid I’ll get some of my ‘dishonor’ on you?”

Jonathan straightened. “No it’s not that, you are my friend’s younger sister, and well old habits and all that.”

Bethany took the flask and another drink and said, “Not to mention a staple of every gossip rag in the Republic, but that’s by choice I suppose.”

Jonathan looked at Bethany with new eyes. The woman he’d dismissed as a sex crazed, drug addled socialite suddenly seemed to have an added depth to her. ‘Still waters run deep’ Jonathan thought.

“By choice?” Jonathan asked.

Bethany shrugged, “You know what a disgrace my father was don’t you?”

Jonathan kept his face blank. Of course he had. The nominal patriarch of the Trendale Clan’s fall was well known. He currently resided off world in order to avoid his creditors, and according to William was dependant on his current girlfriend, a wealthy Vinland widow for financial support.

“Of course you have, and you know how it marked all of us. We all responded differently. Of course brother Edmund sought to redeem our standing by making so much money no one would ever scoff at our name again. Will ran away and joined the Navy and I embraced my disgrace. If the world is going to see me through a particular lens, no reason not to revel in it. Besides, its so much fun to see how much embarrassment I can bring to these old stuff ups. If you are born Landed, things are expected of you. Never mind if you are up to it or not. Ideally, we devote ourselves to the good of the Republic, but what about the good of our own families. For that matter what do we even define as family?”

Jonathan looked at Bethany who had a pall of sadness fall across her face then out at the crowded ballroom. He thought of his own family. His father almost ten years dead, who he still idolized. His poor mother crippled by
Calbert’s
Syndrome, in the care of his brother and sister-in-law, and his own sister who he hadn't heard from in years. Each family had its dysfunction and its drama, but it was a private affair unless you were Landed, then it could be quite public. Moreover, Bethany was right. The notion of family seemed to shift from a group of people whose unconditional love was expected and given, to an ideal of prestige of which needed to be constantly enhanced and polished.