Honorverse favorite passages

Hutch wrote:
We have either short stories or textev about every ship command Honor held except this poor little LAC. I've maintained that (next to the Courtship/Marriage of Horace and Iris) this is the short story the MWW still owes us.

But that is DW's call, so it may be a forlorn hope...but I'll keep hoping.

Hutch wrote:We have either short stories or textev about every ship command Honor held except this poor little LAC. I've maintained that (next to the Courtship/Marriage of Horace and Iris) this is the short story the MWW still owes us.

But that is DW's call, so it may be a forlorn hope...but I'll keep hoping.

kzt wrote:We have stories from a few others. Nothing on the LAC or the SD.

every ship command Honor held

Tenshinai wrote:

kzt wrote:We have stories from a few others. Nothing on the LAC or the SD.

every ship command Honor held

So the SD doesn´t count.

cthia wrote:

kzt wrote:No, just mentioned in passing. I have no idea if David's background files have anything interesting, but it's just an entry in her file right now.

Well at least this time it isn't another book I'm missing. However, I cringe when I think of Honor in a LAC. This had to be loong ago, when LACs were first considered a viable tactical option. Since textev stated that the use of LACs was discontinued due to their 'effectiveness and diminishing returns?,' until such time that the RMN introduced their innovations, I have to wonder what Honor was doing. Part of what 'tactical' or 'strategic' doctrine did she cut her teeth in? Like, what was going on in the Honorverse during that time? CLACS weren't available then, so I suppose she played some sort of system defense role? Or perhaps she policed overzealous freighter captains, similar to the way Honor used her pinnaces to police shipping in Basilisk Station.

cthia wrote:More from the shores of On Basilisk Station.

Obviously, ladies and gentlemen, a single light cruiser can't be in all those places at once. Nonetheless, I have my orders from Captain Young, and I will discharge them."

McKeon sat silent, staring at her in disbelief. She couldn't be serious! As she herself had just proven, no single ship could discharge them.

But she obviously meant to try, and his cheeks burned as he realized what she'd been doing in her quarters over the three hours since her return from Warlock. She'd been tackling her impossible assignment by herself, wrestling with it without even attempting to involve her officers in its solution, for they'd proven that she couldn't. He'd proven that she couldn't.

His hands gripped together under the edge of the table. The final responsibility would have been Harrington's in any case, but captains had officers—and especially first officers—specifically to help them in situations like this. More, McKeon had already grasped the malice behind her new orders. He'd suspected there was something between her and Young; now he knew there was. Young was running a grave risk with his own career by quitting his station, though it seemed likely he had the patronage and influence to stave off outright disaster. But if Harrington failed to discharge the responsibilities he'd dumped on her, however impossible . . .

He shivered internally and made himself concentrate on her words.

"Lieutenant Venizelos."
"Yes, Ma'am?"

"You will select thirty-five ratings and one junior officer for detached duty. Fearless will escort Warlock to the terminus. As soon as Warlock has departed, I will drop you, your chosen personnel, and both pinnaces. You will rendezvous with Basilisk Control and assume the duties of customs and security officer for the terminus traffic. You will be attached to Basilisk Control for that purpose until further notice. Understood?"

Venizelos gawked at her for a moment, and even McKeon blinked. It was unheard of! But it might just work, he admitted almost unwillingly. Unlike cutters, pinnaces were large enough to mount impeller drives and inertial compensators, and they were armed. Their weapons might be popguns and slingshots compared to regular warships, but they were more than sufficient to police unarmed merchantmen. Yet Venizelos was only a lieutenant, and he would be ten hours' com time from his commanding officer. He'd be entirely on his own, and one wrong decision on his part could ruin not only his own career but Harrington's, as well, which certainly explained his white, strained expression.

The captain sat motionless, eyes on Venizelos's face, and her mouth tightened ominously. One tapering forefinger tapped the tabletop gently, and the tactical officer shook himself visibly.

"Uh, yes, Ma'am! Understood."

"Good." Honor regarded him levelly for another moment, tasting his anxiety and uncertainty, and made herself step firmly on her compassion. She was throwing him into the deep end, but she'd been three years younger than he was now when she assumed command of LAC 113. And, she thought mordantly, if he screwed up, Pavel Young and his cronies would see to it that she paid the price for it, not Venizelos. Not that she intended to tell the lieutenant that.

Is there reading delight in any book I haven't discovered which features Honor in command of LAC 113? Is there huh? Is there huh? ... as cthia sits, begging like a dog, expectantly, hoping, paws in the air, panting, winded from excitement.

"You're what?" Captain Reynaud demanded, and Lieutenant Andreas Venizelos wrinkled his brow in puzzlement.

"I said I'm your customs and security officer, Captain. I'm sure Captain Harrington's dispatch will explain everything."

Reynaud accepted the message chip almost numbly, and Venizelos's puzzlement deepened. He couldn't understand why the ACS man looked so confused. It wasn't as if Venizelos were using any big words.

"Let me get this straight," Reynaud said after a moment. "Your Captain Harrington actually expects you and your people to be quartered here at Control? He means to leave you here to support our operations?"

"Yes, Sir, she does." The darkly handsome lieutenant stressed the pronoun's gender, and Reynaud nodded, but he still looked so dumbfounded Venizelos was moved to continue. "Why do you seem so surprised, Sir?"

"Surprised?" Reynaud shook himself, then smiled oddly. "Yes, I suppose 'surprised' is a pretty good word, Lieutenant. Let me just put it this way. I've been chief controller in Basilisk for almost twenty months. Before that, I was senior assistant controller for damn near two years, and in all that time, you're the first—what did you call it? security and customs officer?—anyone's bothered to assign me. In fact, you may be the first one any station commander's ever bothered to assign to Control."

"I'm what?" Venizelos blurted, then flushed as he realized how exactly his tone matched Reynaud's original emphasis. The two of them stared at one another, and then the ACS captain began to grin.

"Now that I think about it," he said, "I believe I did read something in my original orders about the Navy being responsible for inspections and station security. Of course, it's been so long I can't be certain." He glanced at the habitat services tech standing at his shoulder. "Jayne, do me a favor and find the Lieutenant's people some quarters and get them checked out on the basic emergency procedures, would you? I've got some station regs to plow through to find out what the hell we're supposed to do with them."

"Sure thing, Mike." The tech gestured to Ensign Wolversham, Venizelos's second in command, and Reynaud turned back to Venizelos, still grinning. "In the meantime, Lieutenant, perhaps you'd care to join me in my data search?" Venizelos nodded, and Reynaud's grin grew broader. "And perhaps you'd care to tell me a little something about your CO, as well. But take it slow, please. I'm not as young as I used to be, and I don't know if I'm ready for the concept of a competent senior officer on Basilisk Station!"

Andreas Venizelos grinned back, and for the first time in weeks, it felt completely natural.

Tenshinai wrote:

Hutch wrote:
We have either short stories or textev about every ship command Honor held except this poor little LAC. I've maintained that (next to the Courtship/Marriage of Horace and Iris) this is the short story the MWW still owes us.

But that is DW's call, so it may be a forlorn hope...but I'll keep hoping.

And there´s always the "chance" that THAT command was utterly devoid of any really interesting events that would make for a good story.

Since DW probably doesn´t want to retcon something major into her background by now, he may have to leave that command in the background as it is.

Now, that courtship, oh yeah that could be fun.

The moment the door closed behind him, Elizabeth's temper boiled to the surface. Not in a volcanic burst, but in a hissing, bubbling snarl.

"Which room in this entire palace has the thickest walls, no windows—or steel-barred ones—the heaviest door, and the best locks? Real locks, I'm talking about, not electronic ones which that—that—that—"

The glare was now fixed on her younger brother. "—that precocious daughter of yours could hack her way out of!"

She didn't wait for an answer. "And Zilwicki! I'll kill him! What did he think he was doing, flying off to Maya and leaving the two of them—those hoydens! I wouldn't leave them alone in a sandbox! Who in their right mind—"

Michael Winton didn't have his older sister's explosive temper, and he might no longer technically be a prince, since his nephew had officially succeeded to the position of Heir. But the present Duke of Winton-Serisburg had been a prince . . . and was still a Winton. So Honor wasn't surprised at all to see the Queen's rebuke serve the purpose of raising his hackles and shifting his anger from his daughter to his sister.

.........


Winton-Serisburg's words were spoken in a tone very few of the Queen's vassals would ever have dared to use to her, and his eyes were unflinching as he glared at her. "I will remind my esteemed sister that while she is the monarch of the Star Kingdom, she is not Ruth Winton's parent. That happens to be—that honor and privilege happen to be—mine and my wife Judith's. And ours alone."

Younger brother and older sister matched glare for glare. "So if there is going to be any room chosen with heavy doors and manual locks—if—that will be up to me and Judith. Not you."

Suddenly, Elizabeth broke off the mutual glaring match. She even seemed a bit embarrassed. "Still," she said lamely.

Michael wasn't going to relent. "I will also point out to my esteemed older sister that whatever criticism she—or I myself, or Judith, or anyone—might have of my daughter's judgment, no one can question her courage. Nor that of her companion, Berry Zilwicki. Which is no small thing in this universe, Elizabeth Winton."

Judith spoke up. Her eyes were moist. "Whatever else, Elizabeth, they seem to have saved the lives of several thousand people."

"Aboard a ship full of exiles," Honor took the opportunity to murmur, and smiled faintly as aunt and parents both looked at her quickly. "Seems like something of a family tradition to me," she pointed out. No one spoke for a moment, and then Winton-Serisburg chuckled and gave her an appreciative nod.

Hutch wrote:Perhaps...but remember, friend Tenshinai, that Honor was commanding a destroyer (Hawkwing) prior to attending the Crusher, so besides the avalanche rescue and her performance in Silesia and other stations, she must have demonstrated some command ability that brought her to the notice of the Command and allowed her to get a destroyer that early in her career.

Of course, i may be wrong....nah...