Triumphant
Page 34
“Sheep?” Mele asked.
President Chisholm gave her a crooked smile. “From my own family’s history, Major Darcy. Why I fear those in authority who have no allegiance other than to themselves. A long time ago my family was kicked off of their land and exiled to another place far away because those in authority who were sworn to protect them preferred to have sheep on that land. The sheep produced a much higher profit, you see, than did the men, women, and children who’d lived there for many generations. The attacks on Glenlyon have proven that we need to be part of something bigger than ourselves, but I want to be sure that something doesn’t also turn into a threat. It needs to be something we can trust, and that’s why I want someone I can trust helping to create it.”
“I understand,” Rob said. “I accept the offered position. Mele, I’m good with this.”
Chisholm sighed with relief. “Who should be given command of Saber?”
“I recommend that command of Saber be given to Lieutenant Commander Shen, and that she be promoted to commander.”
“I’ll make that happen. We’ll put off the change of command for a month so it doesn’t look like we’re kicking you off of Saber. If anyone on the council complains, I’ll tell them that there are, um, sailor things that need to be done before you can turn over command. What about the new ship?” Chisholm asked. “We don’t have a name yet, and it’ll be a while before the damage to it can be repaired, but we have to think of a captain and crew to help get that ship in shape to help protect this star system.”
“I’d recommend Lieutenant Cameron,” Rob said. “He’s sharp. He’ll have a steep learning curve as commanding officer, but I think he can handle it.”
“Good.” Chisholm looked at Mele. “Major Darcy, have I mentioned how much you frighten me?”
“Not yet today,” Mele said.
“Will you stay in command of the Marines?”
Rob saw Mele look at him, and nodded. “I think you should. You’re a damn good Marine.”
“We want to expand the Marines,” Chisholm added. “At least two hundred. To start. And as promised you will remain a Major. We’re supposed to offer up some defense resources to the new alliance, forces designated for common purposes. I was thinking of formally committing the Marines to that.”
“You want to take the Marines out of your control?” Mele asked.
“No, Major, I want to make the Marines a force that thinks in terms of defending this alliance, not just Glenlyon. You see, this alliance isn’t a grouping of star systems. It’s a grouping of shared values. That is what the Marines will be committed to defending.”
“I’m still unclear on this,” Mele said. “Usually when someone gives up military resources they give up their least valuable assets.”
Chisholm laughed. “Of course they do. But not in this case. Your Marines are too valuable. They’re exactly the sort of small, elite force that could be corrupted. Not by you! But you’ll be replaced someday. You’d be amazed how quickly traditions and policies can be undermined by men and women with clever minds, clever tongues, and no principles. I don’t want Glenlyon’s Marines to become like those ancient Praetorian Guards. I want them to stay apolitical no matter what happens. Assign them to the alliance, and they’ll be committed to the common principles of the star systems in the alliance rather than get involved in local politics. I told you that you frighten me, Major Darcy. You’re the sort of person who could take over a world if she wanted to. I don’t think you ever will, because you’re too smart to think running a world is like running a military unit. But you’re creating the sort of force that could take over a world if it was led by someone else.”
“So,” Mele said, “I’m doing my job too well.”
“Exactly. Just like Commander Geary. Those jealous or worried about either of you will be happy to see you committed to duties with this alliance. They don’t realize I’m committing you to those jobs because I want that alliance to be both strong and not a danger to the star systems that belong to it.”
“You’re either a really, really good liar, or you really mean that,” Mele said.
“I’m a better liar than I should be, but I do mean it,” the president said.
“Okay.” Mele looked at Rob. “I guess if we’re both doing stuff with this alliance, we’ll still be working together.”
Rob nodded, smiling at her. “I can still keep an eye on you.”
“And I can keep an eye on you for Ninja. She’s going to be happy. You won’t get a parade, though.”
“I’d rather have what I fought for,” Rob said, “and I didn’t fight for a parade.”
* * *
• • •
Lochan Nakamura stepped off a shuttle and onto Kosatka’s orbital facility, surprised by how strongly the feeling of coming home struck him. His heart must have joined his head in deciding that this place was now “home.”
“So you’re finally back,” Carmen Ochoa said, smiling. She looked thinner than he remembered, except in her middle abdomen, signs of lingering strain around her eyes, but otherwise Carmen didn’t look as if she’d changed.
“You didn’t have to come up and meet me,” he said, looking around. “This place is a mess.”
“You should have seen it right after the battle,” Carmen said. They walked past the security post that had stopped them on their first arrival at Kosatka years ago, the guards waving to Carmen. “Kosatka has a lot of cleaning up to do, but we’ve got new people and new shipments of material coming again.”
“Trade is coming through?”
“Yes.” She shook her head at him. “That’s probably what saved your butt, Lochan. When we heard that you’d taken Shark along with those other ships on a grand tour of other star systems, there was a lot of drama. How dare he decide that on his own! But then more freighters started showing up, talking about how the pirates had been cleaned out, and gradually you became the guy who helped break the blockade of Kosatka.”
Lochan shook his head in reply. “I just helped convince people. Others did the work.”
“Sure. You’ll have trouble convincing people on Kosatka that you don’t deserve some credit. I saw the report from Shark, about all of the pirates destroyed at Hesta and Scatha and Kappa and other star systems. You’ve been in a lot of battles now.”
“I’ve watched a lot of battles,” Lochan said. “Other people fought them. I’m glad they did some good.”
“No doubt of that! This world is growing again. There are even people beginning to move into Ani.” She looked down the hallway, her eyes suddenly darker. “That’s going to be strange. Seeing Ani as a living city instead of a battlefield.”
“Things must have been rough,” Lochan said, pausing to look at a display showing the planet below them. “I feel horribly guilty that I wasn’t here.”
“Slacker,” Carmen said, smiling at him even though the darkness lingered in her eyes. “Rushing off to help bring into existence the alliance of free star systems that offered Kosatka our first hope in a long time. When you could have stayed here, picked up a weapon, and died very quickly.”
“I might not have died quickly,” Lochan protested. “Even Freya called me dangerous, you know.”
“Freya,” Carmen said. “I want to know more about this Freya. Brigit would never say much.”
“Brigit? How is . . . uh . . .”
This time Carmen grinned. “Pretending she’s not waiting for you to get back. Don’t meet her assuming anything, but if you play your cards right she just might want to get to know you a lot better.”
“Really?” Lochan laughed. “I suppose it was inevitable that sooner or later I’d meet a woman who didn’t want to just be friends. And speaking of friends, my closest friend, how are you doing?”
“Still getting used to not being at war,” she said, leaning against the bulkhead and smiling. “See these
clothes? Like something you’d wear if you’re not worried about being shot at. I spent so long in camouflage I was uncomfortable wearing something that didn’t conceal me.”
“What have you been doing?”
“During the fighting I, um, collected intelligence.”
Lochan let her see that he could tell how much she wasn’t saying. “You weren’t hurt?”
“No. Dominic lost part of a leg, but he’s got a prosthetic and he’s on the list for a regrow.” She smiled again. “Yes, we got married.”
“Congratulations. What have you been doing since the fighting stopped?”
She shrugged. “I was offered a position with the new Combined Intelligence Office, which was created to be an independent voice from the Integrated Intelligence Service.”
“Really?” Lochan asked. “What position?”
Carmen looked embarrassed. “They wanted me to be in charge.”
“Seriously? You took it, right?”
“No,” Carmen said, shaking her head, her mouth set in a stubborn line. “I’m not qualified to run an office like that. I told them to hire my old boss Loren Yeresh, and they did. He’ll be good at it. A strong, independent voice.”
“Then what have you been doing?” Lochan pressed.
“I’ve been taking care of things the First Minister wanted done. Just occasional work, really. That’s okay. It’s given me time to be with Domi. He’s planning on staying with the defense forces, because he says our kids are going to grow up not worrying about someone invading their homes.”
“Kids?” Lochan asked, letting his eyebrows rise.
“Not yet,” Carmen said, patting her midsection. “But on the way. I took some convincing, because of . . . Mars. But Domi was right. Kids represent hope. We’re going to give ours a safe, free world.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Lochan said. “Are you going to be able to travel?”
“Of course I can travel. I’m a Red. It takes a lot to knock us down.”
“Carmen, I don’t know how much you’ve heard about the alliance, but it’s all preliminary. There are going to be a lot of negotiations to make it into a lasting deal. There are a lot of issues to resolve between star systems that want the alliance to be strong enough to protect their interests but don’t want the alliance to be too powerful.”
“That sounds tough,” Carmen said, eyeing him.
“Someone with experience in conflict resolution might be very useful,” Lochan said.
“You’re offering me a job?”
“Carmen, it’s the job you came out here to do. Isn’t this your dream? To ensure that this region of space doesn’t become a vastly bigger form of the humanitarian disaster that Mars turned into?”
“Yes,” she said, “that’s my dream.” Carmen looked to the side, blinking away tears. “I’ll need to talk to Domi. But I think he’ll be happy with the idea. It’ll make Kosatka safer, and I won’t be facing any personal danger like when I was, um . . .”
“Collecting intelligence?” Lochan asked. “Part of my job, our job I hope, will be trying to set up something that won’t fall apart as soon as the immediate threat is dealt with. Apulu, Turan, and Scatha have been knocked back on their heels, but might lash out again as they become increasingly isolated out here. Even after that threat is dealt with, though, there are longer-term concerns. Freya Morgan is worried about what’s out there beyond the current frontier.”
“Do you mean aliens?” Carmen asked.
“No. It’s about those colonization missions run by corporations that went way deep in search of habitable planets far from any government that might tell them what to do. Or what they couldn’t do. She thinks the way they were set up is much too likely to produce dictatorships. If those oppressive governments combine to support each other, our alliance might face some powerful opposition when we finally run into them.”
“I see.” Carmen gazed toward deep space. “Our job’s not done.”
“The most dangerous part of it may be done.”
“Maybe.” She looked back at him and smiled. “Welcome home.”
EPILOGUE
Admiral John Geary looked up as Captain Tanya Desjani walked into his stateroom aboard the Alliance battle cruiser Dauntless. “Am I late for something?”
“I would’ve called if you were late,” she said, offering him her data pad. “I was reading.”
“What about? Tactics or ship maneuvering?”
“Very funny. History.” Desjani placed the pad on his desk so he could read it. “An unpublished manuscript sent to me by your grand-niece.”
“Personal Memoirs of Mele Darcy, General, Alliance Marines,” he read. Geary frowned in thought. “Darcy. She founded the Alliance Marines.”
“You know that, huh?”
“Yes. The Gearys have a tradition of toasting the birthday of the Marines every year. Apparently there was some tie between my family and her.”
Desjani laughed. “Apparently? You don’t know the reason? That she and your ancestor Robert Geary were close friends? That he commanded her in action more than once?”
“Commanded her?” Geary took another look at the screen. “I knew he served for a while, helped organize the Alliance fleet, but I never heard about him having combat commands. Rob Geary is honored in the family as the founder of our line on Glenlyon, and because he established the tradition of the family rendering service to Glenlyon and the Alliance.”
“Nothing about him being a major hero of the pre-Alliance wars?”
“A major hero?” He shook his head. “Is that what General Darcy says?”
“Yeah.” Desjani sat down facing him, her eyes studying Geary. “According to her, he made tough decisions that hurt his career, didn’t consider himself a hero, and rarely said anything about what he’d done.”
Admiral Geary laughed. “I admit it sounds like my apple didn’t fall very far from that ancestral family tree. I guess that’s why the family doesn’t have stories about what he did. He didn’t want that.”
“He should have let his descendants know. You should read this,” Desjani said. “Find out what he did. You’ve asked your ancestors for help, for advice, more than once since I got to know you. And you’ve told me that you felt as if they did offer some very good advice.”
“Maybe Robert Geary knew more tactics than I’ve ever given him credit for,” Geary said, looking down at the device once again. “He was good friends with Darcy, though? I guess that explains why one of Rob’s daughters was the black sheep of the Geary family. She joined the Marines instead of the fleet.”
Desjani smiled, the expression shifting to something questioning. “Have you ever heard the name Ochoa?”
“Ochoa? I don’t think so.”
“My ancestor, from the same time as Rob Geary. She’s mentioned in that.”
“Rob Geary was friends with your ancestor?”
“I don’t think they were that close. I think they might have met through mutual friends like Darcy. But it’s definitely my ancestor Carmen Ochoa. Funny to realize that she knew your ancestor.”
Geary stared at Desjani. “I guess fate wasn’t ready to bring our family lines together at that point.”
“I guess not.” She stood up, touching the comm pad. “Read it. According to Jane Geary it remained unpublished because Darcy expressed herself and her feelings about events and people very candidly. It felt like the unvarnished truth to me, except that Darcy always downplays her own actions.”
“That fits if Robert Geary liked her.”
“Jack, do you ever wonder if this was all planned out by something greater than ourselves? That we’re all playing roles in a story fate set into motion long, long ago?”
“More often I feel as if fate is making it up as it goes along. One thing I do know. What we do matters. I guess that came down in my fam
ily from Robert Geary. It doesn’t matter what plans fate has, we struggle to do what’s right anyway.”
“That’s come down in my family, too,” she said. “Though it was a bit jarring to learn that Carmen Ochoa was a Red like those Martians we encountered at Old Earth. My family had managed to bury that little bit of history.”
“I’d guess that Ochoa wasn’t like one of those Reds,” Geary said.
“You’re right. That’s a safe bet.” Tanya Desjani tapped the reader. “Give this a read. Find out where this story of ours started.”
“Right now I’m wondering where it’s going to end.”
“Let me know when you figure that out.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jack Campbell is the pen name of John G. Hemry, a retired naval officer who graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis before serving with the surface fleet and in a variety of other assignments. He is the author of the Lost Fleet series and the Lost Stars series as well as the Stark's War series, the Paul Sinclair series, and the Pillars of Reality series.
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