by David Weber
She sighed and rolled out of the lotus. There was no point pretending, and it was a bad habit to pretend to relax. She flowed to her feet and considered more stringent exercises, but activity wasn't the anodyne she needed now. Her doubts demanded resolution.
Yet there was nowhere for a captain to turn when troubled by doubt. Junior officers could discuss their fears; enlisted people could do the same. Even admirals could talk with other admirals, or at least their flag captains. But captains' absolute authority during their months-long voyages robbed them of that luxury. God was the only person to whom a wise skipper admitted her doubts.
Infallibility.
Her lips quirked at the thought. That was what a captain must radiate. Absolute confidence.
Hah had never made any secret of her own apolitical loyalty to her homeworld, and though, like most Fringers, she'd studied politics closely, she wasn't a political person. Or, at least, she hadn't been a political person. Like every child of Hangehow, she'd learned at an early age that the Corporate Worlds controlled her people's economic destiny, yet she had always believed the Legislative Assembly would somehow safeguard their political rights... until she'd gained her fourth ring and become privy to the inner workings of the policies the Fleet sometimes enforced. Her first deployment as captain had based her ship on New Detroit, and, for the first time, she had realized how totally the Corporate Worlds controlled the Assembly.
Even then, she'd believed time and demographics were on the side of the Fringe; now it seemed the Corporate Worlds were determined to turn back the clock and disenfranchise her people. They even had a precedent, for the Reapportionments of 2184 and' 2240 had done exactly the same thing.
Han had not been a political person, but she had been and still was a direct one. She never lied to herself. When the first doubt appeared, she'd dragged it ruthlessly into the open, examining it pitilessly.
To her surprise, the light of day did not kill it. Indeed, it thrived in the sunlight, and her suspicion-sharpened eves saw things she'd never noticed before. And as a direct person who accepted the Fleet's admonition to be prepared, Han had begun to consider what she--Li Han the woman, as well as Li Han the captain--would do if the unthinkable happened. What was her duty? Where did her loyalty lie ff the madmen on either side pushed the Federation beyond its strength? Her conclusions had shocked her, but she was what she was.
She could be no other; and being what she was, she had acted.
Captian Li Hah, TFN, woke frequently these nights--woke praying that the Federation she loved and served would survive the storm lashing across it. But ff the day came when the Federation toppled under the hurricane,. she also knew what she would do... what she would have to do.
"Challenge from the flagship, sir." Han glanced at her executive officer and then at the plot displaying the might of Task Force Seventeen.
Eight monitors, eight superdreadnoughts, six assault carriers, two fleet carriers, ten battle-cruisers, dozens of cruisers, and scores of destroyers, Marine transports, repair ships, colliers.. @u It made an imposing sight on the tactical display. More firepower than the TFN had committed to most campaigns of the Fourth Interstellar Var--- certainly more than had ever been deployed in a single battle. And all this panoply of war, she thought sadly, was to overawe the citizens of the Federation, not to defeat their enemies in battle.
"Standard acknowledgment, Chang," she said.
"Yes, sir." The message rehed out across the emptiness to the task force. There was a communications lag of over two minutes at this range, even as Longbow loped towards Task Force Seventeen at ten percent of light speed.
"Reply from Flag, sir. We are to take position in com- pany with Flintlock. Captain to report aboard Anderson as soon as convenient. One query: do we have dispatches on board?" "Reply affirmative, Exec." She pressed a stud on her command chair arm console. "Boatbay," she said.
"Boatbay, aye," a voice replied in her mastoid battlephone. "Chief Ling, this is the Captain. I need my cutter in twenty minutes." "Yes, sir. She'll be ready to flit." 'rhank you, Chief." She killed the circuit and returned her attention to the plot, watching the tiny blips blink from the red-ringed circles of unidentified ships to the green-ringed dots of known units as Longbow's computers sorted out their transponders. One dot was circled in gold--- TFNS Howard Anderson, the monitor flagship-- and it swung to the center of the plot as Longbow headed straight for her. Han studied it a moment, then punched up identities on the others, looking for familiar faces among their commanders.
Anderson's skipper she knew: Captain Willis Enwright, Fleet Admiral Forsythe's handpicked flag captain and one of the most brilliant of the many Fringe World officers in the Fleet. Nor was he the first such in his familv-- Anderson's sistership, the Lawrence Enwright, was nared for one of his ancestors. Captain Simon Hodah had her, Han remembered with a warm smile. Simon was ten vears her senior, but they'd been close friends since Han's mddie cruise as his assistant astrogator. There were other names and faces out here to be remembered. Vice Admiral Traynor in command of one of the superdreadnought battlegroups; Vice Admiral Eric Hale, commanding the other. Vice Admiral Analiese Ashigara, a Fringe Worlder from Hokkaido, flying her lights aboard the assault carrier Basilisk. Vice Admiral Singh, Forsythe's second in command, flying his lights aboard Hodah's ship.
Meetings between this many Fleet units were rare, and it felt good to see the light codes, to remember the men and women in the tight knit Navy community.
They were professionals one and ali; brothers and sisters of the sword, dedicated to the pure service of the Federation's ideals.
Or that was the idea. That was the Navy's credo, even if its members were merely human and often fell short of the ideal. Han's smile faded as she weighed herself against the standards of the Fleet, and she wondered how many of those others she knew were doing the same thing over there behind the weapons and armor, behind the armor of their eyes?
She shook her head and rose.
"You have the con, Exec," she said formally. "I'm going to my quarters for a quick shower before I report to the Admiral." "Yes, sir." Commander Tsing Chang took the command chair as the captain left the bridge. His eyes flicked over the readouts as the intraship car's doors hissed quietly shut. Only then did he allow himself a glance at the blank doors which had hidden his tiny captain. Did she really think no one else on board had guessed what she was thinking?
He returned his attention to the tactical plot, his tace expressionless, his mind busy behind his dark eyes.
"Greetings, Captain Li." Fleet Admiral Stepan Forsythe held out his hand, and Hah could not help comparing his INSU-AAECTIO dry, frail grip with" the firm, hairy clasp of the last fleet admiral she'd met.
Stepan Forsythe was William Rutgers' physical opposite in every way, she thought. He was slen- der, stoop-shouldered, showing his advanced age in his lined face and thinning hair. Forsythe was a living link with the days of the Fourth Interstellar War, and Han knew he was due for retirement soon. His body was old and frail, for he was one of the rare individuals who responded poorly to the anti-aging therapies, but keen intelligence and will power glinted behind his gray eyes.
"Thank you, sir," she said, returning the clasp.
"You made a fast passage," Forsythe continued, waving her to a chair and touching the security binder on his desk as if to restrain a venomous serpent.
"We tried, sir." "Yes. Well, would you like a drink while I glance through this?" "No, sir. Thank you." "Very well. If you'll excuse me?" Han arranged her cap very precisely on her knees and sat quietly as the old admiral opened the binder and extracted the sheets of closely printed material. He read slowly, carefully, but no change of expression betraved his thoughts. Perhaps the contents were less of a shocl to him than they'd been to her. Perhaps he'd gone even further than she in analyzing the crisis, or perhaps he simply had access to more information than a mere captain.
Forsythe sighed and turned the final page at last, then jogged the sheets neatl
y back into order. He returned them to the binder and pressed a stud on his console, glancing into the screen as it lit.
"Willis? Would you come to my quarters, please?" "Yes, sir." Forsythe cut the circuit and smiled tautly at Han. "I realize you probably don't know any more than is con-rained in these documents, Captain Li, but I'd appreciate it if you'd give Captain Enwright and myself the benefit of your firsthand impressions. We're rather isolated out here, and neither of us has had any personal contact with the Innerworlds in almost a year." "Of course, sir," Han said, hiding her discomfort.
"q'hank you. We-- ah! Here's the captain."
Han rose quickly as Willis Enwright entered the cabin with a hurried stride. That was one of the things she associated with Enwright--quickness, speed, almost haste.
It was as ff he resented the dawdling pace of time and wrestled with every second for the maximum utility he could wring from it. It made for a thorny personality, but it also made him a superb captain and would someday make him an equally outstanding admiral.
"Han!" He squeezed her hand warmly. "Good to see you again. How are your parents?" "Mother is as beautiful as ever; Father is as handsome." Han smiled. "What else is there to say?" "I suppose that does just about cover it," Enwright agreed with a grin. He dropped sloppily into a chair, and Hah seated herself again, glancing at Forsythe for his reaction to Enwright's informality. The old admiral only smiled at his flag captain.
Then his expression tightened.
"Willis, Captain Li has brought us some disturbing information." He slid the binder across the desk. "Want a look?" "Why?" Enwright shrugged. "No doubt the Assembly's done something else foolish. They've specialized in that for years, or we wouldn't be out here, sir." "Foolish or not, they're still the duly constituted government," Forsythe said, the slight edge in his voice suggesting that this wasn't the first time he and Enwright had struck sparks on the subject.
"However--was Forsythe shook his head his-comI have to agree that this time they really have been foolish.
Look at this." He opened the binder and handed Enwright the top sheet, and the captain's face tightened.
"Foolish isn't the word, sir," he said quietly, his humor vanished. "My God, ff this goes through the whole Fringe will go up in smoke. and I don't know as how I'll blame them, either." He read further, then whistled. "Jesus! If they do expel Lad Skjorning, the shit will really fly, Admiral!" "Precisely," Forsythe said frostily. "And fi, as you so quaintly put it, the shit does fly, whose job is it to quiet the situation back down?" "Ours," Enwright said, his voice troubled.
"Ours, indeed, Captain." Forsythe turned back to Han.
"Captain Li, is it yotir inpression this evaluation is essentially accurate?" "Well, sir," Hah said carefully, "Admiral Burgers certainly seemed to think so when he spoke to me." She shrugged. "But you probably know more about it from his dispatch." "His dispatch, like many things these days, is written on many levels." For just an instant, Forsythe showed every year of his advanced age. "It seems we're afraid to be totally open even in secure communications." "It's because no one wants to face it, Stepan," Enwright said. "But we have to. The Federation is on the verge of civil war." It was the first time someone had come right out and said it in Han's preseneetrust Willis to be the first. She watehed Forsythe, but the old admiral had his expression well in hand.
"On the verge is not the same thing as actively at war, Willis," he said quietly. "It's our job to see it doesn't go that far." "Agreed," Enwright nodded. "But what ff it's a job we can't do, sir?" "There is no job the Fleet can't do!" "Sir, Fringers aren't Arachnids--comor even Tangri or Orions. Dealing with aliens may come down to a matter of firepower more often than we like, but it doesn't bother the Fleet much--that's our job, after all. But firing on our own Enwright shook his head sadly. "With all due I'm not sure the crews could do it." " "It won't come to that," Forsythe said. "We'll warp out immediately for routine maneuvers in Kontravian space. Not even the Beauforters are crazy enough to start something with a task force this size overhead." "Probably not," Enwright said softly. "But what ff it's already started, sir? I've served with Lad Skjorning. He's no hothead, but once he makes up his mind, not God nor the devil can change it." "Skjorning is only one man, Willis." "But if they send him home, he'll be the most important 'one man" in the entire Kontravian Cluster, sir. He's inherited all of Fionna MacTaggart's prestige, as well as his own, which was already pretWill considerable."
"Admiral," Han said diffidently, "Captain Enwright has a point. I don't know ffyou realize just how critical Skjorning has become. If the Assembly expels him, hundreds of Fringer delegates will resign in protest." "Then they're fools!" Forsythe snorted. "They should stay and fight!" "hat's easy for us to say, sir," Enwright pointed out gently. "We've been safely isolated here in the Fleet. We're more like one of the old monastic fighting orders than a representative segment of our society, and we certainly haven't personally faced the Corporate World political machine. Its manipulation of the Assembly has become so blatant no Fringer delegate had any doubts left even before MacTaggart was murdered. Now the writing's on the wall, as far as they're concerned. They're tired of fighting within a system that won't let them win, sir." "But if they persist in this madness they'll force an open break! They're playing right into the hands of this sort of manipulation." Forsythe tapped the binder.
"Don't they see that?" "With, respect, Admiral," Han said, "they're too 'angry to cae.
"And do you share their anger, Captain Li?" Forsythe asked softly.
"Yes, sir, I do." It was the first time a superior had asked her that, and Han found it almost a relief to answer openly.
"Stepan," Enwright's quiet voice drew the admiral's eyes away from her, "most of the Outwodders in the Fleet share Captain Li's feelings. You're not a Fringer, so maybe you don't see it that way, but the Fringers do. That's why I'm so concerned about this "show of force" business. If it comes to a real confrontation, there's no telling how the Fleet will react. More than sixty percent of our personnel are Fringers, Stepan." "Whey are also sworn members of the Federation's armed forces," Forsytbe said levelly. "If the time comes, they'll remember that." He waved a hand briskly, as ff to dispel the tension which had sprung up. "But we're going to the Kontravian Cluster to make certain it never comes to that." "Yes, sir," Enwright said, leaning forward in his chair,
"and with the admiral's pc?miSsion, I'd like to make a
suggestion." "Of course." Forsythe watched Enwright thoughtfully.
"You're absolutely right on at least one point, sir; the best way to make sure nothing happens is to create a Fleet presence in Kontravian space before any explosion. I sug- gest that we detach Admiral Ashigara's carrier group and the battle-cruisers and send them on ahead.
They're fifty percent faster than the monitors. At flank speed, they could reach the Kontravian Cluster alm'three months before the rest of the task force. That'd give us that much more time before the Kontravians can do any- thing rash." Forsythe swiveled his chair slowly back and forth, considering, and Han watched him closely@u Willis was to lllllllllllll[lll'l III-L[I I iii right. The sooner they got warships into the cluster, the , His better@u Even the most ferventFringe sympathizer in the Fleet would be willing to nip trouble in the bud before it reached shooting proportions.
"No, Willis," Forsythe said finally. Enwright looked prepared to argue, but Forsythe waved a hand gently. "I'm glad you're thinking in terms of prevention, but if we send a detachment ahead the whole idea of a routine visit @u goes out the airlock. And I think you overestimate the depth of feeling in the Cluster. I don't question your reading of the Fringe leadership, but there's a deep reservoir of loyalty to Old Terra among the population. We'll get there before their leaders push them into anything truly "Stepan," Enwright said, "please don't equate loyalty to the motherworld with loyalty to the Assembly! Fringers see them as two separate entities@u" "Perhaps," Forsythe said testily, "but there's enough overlap to offset any rashness, I think. And the last thing we c
an afford is to look as if we expect a break. No, Willis. We'll do it my way." Hah held her breath and wondered if Enwright would push it. She glanced at the captain, reading the worry, in his face, but he held his tongue.
"That's settled, then," Forsvthe said with the same finality@u He glanced at his dsk chronometer. "I see it's just alout time for dinner, Captain Li. Will you dine with us?" "I'd be honored, Admiral," she said, accepting the change of subject, and rose to follow her superiors from the cabin, glancing back at the sealed security binder on the desk as they left.
A cold breeze blew through her bones as she passed the Marine guard and the cabin hatch dosed behind them. Admiral Forsythe was a good man, a loyal man--one who cared about all the Federation's citizens. Yet she had a premonition that a terrible mistake had just been made.
HOMECOMING The wrenching stress of warp transit echoed in every inner ear aboard the starship Capricorn, though liners never transited warp points at the same speed as warships to est their delicate (and paying) passen'ers lose their breakfasts. The moment of indescribable tension passed into memory as Capricorn's momentarily addled electronic systems recovered, and her deck plates trembled gently as her powerful drive sang back up to maximum, for Capricorn was a fast ship, with a reputation to maintain.