Triumphant (Genesis Fleet, The)

by Jack Campbell

  “She was concerned about outsiders coming in to coerce us,” Rob said. “Which is understandable concerning our recent history.”

  Captain Sori inclined her head toward him. “We’ll be heading in different directions soon, but I am looking forward to further opportunities to work with you and Glenlyon’s forces in pursuit of common interests.”

  Rob hesitated, not knowing what to say, and not wanting to lie to these officers who’d helped save his home. The gazes of the others on him grew curious, though. He had to say something. “I . . . hope that Glenlyon will be a strong partner in future endeavors. I . . . can’t say at this point what my personal role will be, but I’m sure whoever does work with you from Glenlyon’s forces will do very well.”

  After a few more rounds of mutual farewells and hopes for the future, the others ended the conference, their displays blanking until only that showing Lochan Nakamura remained. “Commodore Geary, Mele Darcy is my friend, and you’re her friend. I can sense there’s some uncertainty about your future. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No,” Rob said. “Mele’s not going to be happy that you didn’t stop by to see her.”

  “She’s not going to be happy if anything adverse happens to you.”

  “That’s true.” Rob shrugged. “I made some tough calls. Those decisions could haunt me once I get my ship back to the orbital facility. But I don’t think I could’ve done differently.”

  “I see.” Nakamura nodded slowly. “For what it’s worth, Mele admires you as an officer.”

  “She admires you as well.”

  “She saw something in me that I didn’t see. That’s strange, isn’t it? No one knows more about what we think and feel inside than we do, and yet those outside of us sometimes see us better than we ourselves do. Good luck, Commodore.”

  “Thank you. Hopefully we’ll work together again.”

  Nakamura’s call ended as well, Rob went to check on the status of the preparations to tow the captured warship.

  It was time to go home, no matter what waited there.

  CHAPTER 16

  Mele Darcy stood in her repaired battle armor on the dock of the orbital facility, her remaining Marines and the surviving force recon ground soldiers in ranks behind her. All wore their armor on the airless dock, making them appear much more menacing than if they’d simply been in uniform. Visible against the stars were the shapes of two destroyers on final approach to match orbits and dock. Saber, coming home, and the captured enemy ship that might one day also join Glenlyon’s forces if it could be repaired. Mele’s forces were both an honor guard for Saber and a guard for the occupants of the captured ship.

  Civilians who didn’t work on the dock had been banned from it until the prisoners had been processed. That was the justification Mele had used, anyway. She was a little tired of hearing wails of distress from returning business owners as they took in the damage to the facility from both the fighting and from the defensive modifications Mele’s forces had made.

  “I just inspected the compartments prepared for holding the prisoners before they’re transferred down to the planet,” Gunnery Sergeant Moon reported. “Everything is ready, Major. We were given a count of one hundred twelve prisoners from the surviving crews of the enemy cruiser and destroyer, but I’m ready for one hundred twenty just in case the space squids had trouble counting.”

  “Good,” Mele said. “Who’s in charge of the guards on the compartments?”

  “Sergeant Lamar. I figured she could use the experience.”

  “It never hurts. Sergeant Lamar, how’s life as a senior enlisted?”

  Penny Lamar sounded bemused when she answered over the command circuit. “It’s a little confusing, ma’am.”

  “How so?” Mele asked.

  “Well, when I was a corporal, the sergeant was always telling me to do things. I got that. Made sense. But now I’m a sergeant, and I haven’t got a corporal to tell things to do.”

  “We should fix that,” Gunny Moon said.

  “We are kind of short on corporals,” Mele said, thinking. “Private Ford.”

  Ford’s response sounded both professional and wary. “Yes, Major?”

  “You’re now Corporal Ford. Congratulations. You’re assigned to Sergeant Lamar. Sergeant Lamar, you now have a corporal to tell to do things.”

  Saber’s docking seemed to take forever, the ship gliding closer and closer until a final nudge from her thrusters perfectly matched the vector of the facility’s dock and grapnels locked the ship in place.

  The quarterdeck hatch opened and Rob Geary came onto the dock wearing a survival suit, looking about briefly before walking to Mele.

  They exchanged salutes. “Congratulations, Major Darcy,” Rob said to her.

  “Congratulations, Commodore Geary,” Mele replied. “I’ve got orders to head down to the planet once your ship was docked. I think half of Glenlyon’s industry leaders want my head for messing up their orbital facility. How about you?”

  “The same. I guess we’re going to be called to account for our sins.”

  “Yeah,” Mele said. “We should’ve just lost so we’d be celebrated as martyrs. Want to come have a drink while we wait for the prisoners to be processed?”

  “I need to watch the captured ship as it docks,” Rob said. “Responsibilities, you know.”

  “What’s the name of that tub, anyway?”

  “The D-11.”

  “Really? That’s . . . inspiring.”

  “Yeah.” Rob sounded tired. “We are fighting for the right side, Mele.”

  “I know,” she said. “I just wish the right side would stop fighting us.”

  * * *

  • • •

  The city looked like it had never been temporarily abandoned. It was hard to believe that life had restarted here so quickly after the evacuation during the attack on the orbital facility. Rob stood on the sidewalk for a moment to look around before walking into the government building.

  He and Mele were in their dress uniforms, making them stand out. Rob could feel the gazes of others on them as they walked to the office of President Chisholm.

  “How’s Ninja?” Mele asked.

  “Fine. Happy that I’m back safe, and happy that you’re back safe.”

  “Is she leaving it up to you?”

  “Yes, but . . .” Rob rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “She also made it clear I need to think about her and the kids when I decide.”

  “Fair enough, I guess,” Mele said. “I’m glad my life’s not that complicated.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I’m a very simple soul living a very simple life.”

  They reached the president’s office, the secretary outside gesturing them to wait, then almost immediately beckoning them on and opening the door.

  Rob led the way as he and Mele walked into the office, hearing the door close behind them, and stood at attention before the desk of the president. Chisholm’s office, once famous for how few decorations and pictures it contained, had acquired a few landscapes and starscapes on the walls. But otherwise it still felt like a place the occupant saw as a temporary home, something that Rob realized brought him comfort.

  “Sit down, please, both of you,” President Chisholm said, gesturing to the chairs facing her desk. She had the look of someone carrying out a difficult task.

  Rob sat, trying to keep his movements slow and easy to hide his inner tension. Mele sat down in the other chair.

  Chisholm sighed, rubbing her face with both hands. “We won. I’m sure you’ve already heard about some of the reaction to what you two did during the most recent crisis.”

  “Yes,” Rob said.

  “I was ordered to save that facility,” Mele said. “I did.”

  The president lowered her hands, gazing at them. “The amount of rebuildin
g and repair is going to be substantial. The businesses that cheered you on for your brave defense of the station suffered from choking fits when they got a good look at the, uh, alterations done to defend the place. Nonetheless, you’re a hero to the people of Glenlyon, Mele Darcy.”

  “I did my job. I’d rather people remembered those who didn’t make it.” Mele pointed to Rob. “And I’d rather they remembered those who also made the victory possible by their actions.”

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Chisholm looked at Rob. “The man who didn’t act. The ship that waited.”

  “That’s grossly unfair,” Mele insisted.

  “I know that. Rob, you probably won’t be surprised to hear that Council Members Kim and Odom both wanted to hold a formal inquiry in which you’d be expected to answer for your actions, or lack thereof. I don’t mind telling you that I let them know that had better not happen. For your own peace of mind, during the events in question I asked both of those council members if they wanted to sign on to orders requiring you to attack, and both of them found reasons to avoid doing that. They knew as well as I did, and you did, that such an attack would have been a disaster. But they wanted to be sure only you would be held responsible. I didn’t permit that, and if they push me, they know I’ll make sure the public learns of it.”

  “Thank you,” Rob said.

  “I’m protecting myself, too,” Chisholm said. “You know that, don’t you? As long as portions of the public see you as being to blame for the lack of action, they won’t demand that I be held personally accountable for nearly losing Glenlyon’s link to space. But if you get up in front of an inquiry it will become obvious that the government accepted your decisions and shares in the responsibility for them.”

  “Doesn’t it matter that I’m happy with what he did?” Mele Darcy asked.

  “It does,” the president replied. “Though many credit your friendship for that. But your public statements of thanks for the support provided by Saber and her commander and crew have done a lot to damp down any public sentiment against Rob Geary.” Chisholm leaned back, rubbing her forehead with one hand. “The former hero of Glenlyon is, in some eyes, now the guy who lost his nerve, who held back when he was needed the most. If you’d charged in and gotten yourself and your ship blown to pieces, they’d be celebrating your heroism, and never mind that the enemy would’ve captured our orbital facility and started dropping rocks on us until we agreed to let them run this world. You’ve seen my public statements. I’m giving you full credit for our victory.”

  Rob nodded again. “And I’ve seen the reaction. They think you’re praising me to cover your own back.”

  “Right. Though they can’t make that claim in the case of Major Darcy.” Chisholm picked up a stylus, looked at it, then tossed it down again. “I’m not perfect, Rob. I play the game as well as I can. But I know the value of someone who comes through when I need that kind of person. That’s been you. That’s why I want to protect you this time. But it’s hard to convince some people that not being a hero was the most heroic thing you could’ve done.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment, frowning down at the surface of her desk before glancing at Mele. “I know whatever happens to Rob will produce a response from you. Please hear me out before you make any statements. Rob, Kosatka rightly considers you to be a hero. Have you considered going there? Before you answer, I promise that if you do, I’ll make it clear to Kosatka’s government that any favorable treatment of you will be regarded as a personal favor to me that will be generously repaid. Not that Kosatka would probably need any such assurance. You’d receive appropriate recognition there.”

  Rob hesitated. “My family thinks of Glenlyon as home. So do I. And . . . I know men and women who died defending Glenlyon. Some of them died following my orders. I don’t want to leave behind my home, and the sacrifices that others made for it.”

  “Rob, I want you to stay here, but I can’t keep you in command of Glenlyon’s space forces. I’ll face a vote of no confidence if I do, and I don’t think I could win that vote.”

  “I understand.”

  “The hell you do!” Chisholm glared at the door to her office. “My falling on my sword wouldn’t make any difference to the outcome! Glenlyon will probably need you again. But if I’m forced to relieve you of command, and of command of Saber, you’d have every right to tell Glenlyon to go to hell the next time we’re in trouble.”

  “Rob Geary isn’t the only one who’d be telling you to go to hell,” Mele Darcy said in a deceptively mild voice. “I need to know that I and my Marines will be fighting for a government that respects us and our sacrifices. I won’t act against the government if you dump Rob, but I won’t serve it, either.”

  “Mele—” Rob began.

  “Sorry, boss. No.”

  Rob did his best to keep his voice steady. “It’s not about me. It shouldn’t be about me. Others gave their lives for Glenlyon. That was expected of them, demanded of them. Why should my career, my reputation, be regarded as more valuable than the lives others gave?”

  “You’d make a lousy politician, Rob,” the president said. “Or maybe a great one. I don’t know. I do know that Glenlyon needs people like you, so I’m glad that you intend remaining here.” Chisholm picked up the stylus again and began tapping it lightly on the surface of her desk, watching its movements. “I’ve got an option. To your detractors, it’ll be seen as a demotion, as punishment. That will satisfy them. But I think it’s a very important job, and in the long run perhaps the most important job you could do.”

  She set down the stylus and nodded toward a star chart on one wall. “You chewed me out when I hesitated to commit to the alliance. Once I talked to Nakamura and got a look at the preliminary agreements, I realized that you were right. But it’s just a start. The alliance agreement, in its very provisional and vague current form that Glenlyon has agreed to, doesn’t establish a single space force or fleet. It does call for each member star system to contribute resources to the common defense if called on.” Chisholm looked over to meet his eyes again. “I can appoint you to that. There’d be some travel involved, to places like Kosatka and Eire and Benten, but you’d still be based at Glenlyon. You’d also not be in a command position. This wouldn’t be a combat job. Your task would be liaison and coordination, setting the stage for a common defense fleet by agreeing to joint procedures and rules. You’d be more of a diplomat, helping to turn this new alliance into something enduring.”

  President Chisholm rested both of her hands on her desk, speaking slowly. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this, Rob. While you’d officially remain a commander in rank, you’d be in a staff position that gives you no command authority. Everyone will notice that. You’ve made some extremely tough command decisions and made them well, and your reward will be a public slap in the face denying you any more opportunities at command.”

  From somewhere, a sense of self-mockery rose to help Rob cope with the idea. “You could’ve sugarcoated it a little.”

  Chisholm smiled, but her eyes remained wary. “That sounds like the sort of thing Major Darcy would say.”

  “Major Darcy,” Mele said, “isn’t happy that Commander Geary is being treated this way, like a bone being thrown to those unhappy with the fact that miracles don’t happen because we wish for them. Commanders who make hard decisions should be rewarded.”

  “So should politicians who make hard decisions,” Chisholm said. “Can you make that happen? I know you’re aware of history.”

  “No good deed goes unpunished,” Mele said.

  “Exactly. I can’t change people, Major Darcy. All I can do is try to herd them in the right direction. And I don’t pretend to always be right about which way that is. Rob, will you take this job?”

  Rob exhaled slowly, looking down at his hands tightly clasped together in his lap. “It’s
important, isn’t it? Hesta is going to be free again, and Scatha is getting a face full of the surprise attacks its been handing out to everyone else. But that’s not going to end this. This alliance will have to hold together.”

  “Commander,” Mele said, “all you have to do is ask, and I’ll draw a line in the sand over this.”

  “No,” he said. “I’m not sacrificing you for my career.”

  President Chisholm snorted. “Major Darcy is very safe. If she came out against my actions, I’d be the one whose career was likely to end. And there’d be substantial public demand for her to sit in this chair.”

  “My turn to say no,” Mele said. “I don’t want your job, I couldn’t do your job, and I won’t take your job.”

  “You’re probably the smartest person in this room,” Chisholm said. “Rob, if you demand it of me, I’ll go to the mat for you. But I’ll most likely lose. A majority of the council will insist that they’ve lost confidence in you.”

  “Because he made the right decisions,” Mele said.

  “Because he made the right decisions.”

  “This needs to be done,” Rob said. “The job you’re offering. Who does it if I don’t? And . . . Mele, you know how Ninja feels about me being in combat. She’d never force me to avoid my duty as I saw it, but it’s very hard on her. I’ve been sacrificing my family, in a way, to get these jobs done. What we’re talking about now is just my career. Any military officer who isn’t willing to sacrifice their career for the right reasons doesn’t deserve to be a military officer.”

  “I can’t deny that,” Mele said.

  “Maybe I should take this offer because I’ve paid enough of a personal price,” Rob added. “I don’t need any reward for what’s been done in the past other than knowing my family is safe, and that I did what I could to make that happen.”

  “I’m not offering you a vacation,” Chisholm said. “There are likely to be some hard decisions and negotiations. We have to make a new system for ensuring we’re safe.” She looked at the star chart once more. “When we came out here, I think all of us hoped that sort of thing wouldn’t have to be called for anymore, that there’d be enough room and resources that everyone would leave everyone else alone. But that’s not how people work, is it? I disliked the excess of rules in the Old Colonies as much as anyone, but it turns out we need some rules. Enough rules to keep safe those who want to follow them, and other rules for how to deal with the ones who won’t follow the rules and see their fellows as sheep to be sheared.”