Blood In the Water by Taylor Anderson

done.”
    â€œYeah,” Matt agreed. “He’s come a long way,” he said, remembering when Alan had been merely an extremely unfocused supply officer. “I wouldn’t trade jobs with him for the world,” he added.
    â€œHe will, no doubt, be most glad to relinquish his acting duties as chairman of the Grand Alliance back to Adar when he returns to Baalkpan,” Safir noted.
    And I’ll be glad when he gets there too,
Matt told himself,
because it’ll mean Sandra—and the baby—are safe in Baalkpan as well
. “No doubt,” he chorused with the others, “and I guess his arrival there is all they’re waiting for before all the representatives get together and ratify the Union”—he smiled—“and finally give it a name.” He looked around. “Any idea which way they’re leaning?” He assumed a mock expression of haughty dignity. “As Supreme Allied Commander, CINC-WEST, and High Chief of the American Navy Clan, I’m still pushing for ‘New Texas’ myself.” Keje snorted, and Russ Chappelle had to hide his face. Pam Cross just stared at him, incredulous. That made Matt laugh. “I’m just kidding, I swear! Actually, just ‘the Union’ sounds okay to me.” Keje and Safir were nodding and blinking amusement. Both knew that “Texas,” wherever that was, was Matt’s birthplace. But they were each heads of state in their own right. Keje was High Chief of USNRS
Salissa
, technically a “reserve” ship operating with the Amer-i-caan Navy. He’d already joined with Tasanna on
Arracca
, which enjoyed the same status, to become a bigger “state” of their own, and despite the age difference, there was talk of a more personal “joining” between them. Neither had a mate. Safir was queen of B’mbaado, but now also of her former enemy Aryaal as well—and the aged General Lord Muln Rolak was to be “protector” of both cities. Each had a say of their own, and all had proclaimed a preference for some variation of “Union.”
    â€œWell, we’ve all got a lot of work to do, here and back at Baalkpan,” Matt said, standing. The rough-hewn benches groaned and squeaked as they were pushed back and the others stood as well. “Let’s break this up.I hope Mr. Leedom tears ’em up tonight,” he added, glancing upward, “and I’ll see you all in the morning.”
    â€œOne last thing, Captain Reddy, if you please,” Russ Chappelle said hastily, moving to a cabinet nearby. He returned with a beautiful wooden case about ten by twelve inches and three inches deep. He hesitated a moment before presenting it to Matt. “We’ve been carrying this thing around a long time, and the ‘right moment’ to hand it over just never seems to come.” He shrugged, with a glance at the others around the table, and passed the case. “This’ll have to do,” he said. Immediately, everyone began to clap and stamp their feet, so they’d all obviously known ahead of time.
    Up close, in Matt’s hands, the wood was even more stunning. It looked like a shiny swirl of dark chocolate and peanut butter, accented with fiery, shimmering flashes of purple and gold that seemed painted on with a feather but were actually in the grain of the wood. A polished plaque read: WITH UTMOST GRATITUDE TO CAPTAIN MATTHEW REDD Y , and it was from, simply, ALL HIS PEOPLE . Eyes beginning to burn, Matt lifted the lid. Inside was the Single-Action Army Colt that had been found rusting in the captain’s cabin of this very ship, but it had been transformed into a gleaming, nickel-plated thing of beauty. Fine engraving covered the weapon from the muzzle to the backstrap, and the grips had been replaced with the same exotic wood the case was made of. And in the grips, deeply engraved, was USS WALKER ( DD -163). Fifty .44-40 cartridges