“Commander Geary, welcome back,” Chisholm began, making the welcome back sound both glad and accusing. “Needless to say, your return to Glenlyon is a very welcome event. The circumstances regarding your extended delay in returning led to considerable debate among the members of the defense subcommittee.”
Chisholm paused as if thinking, but Rob was sure that she’d memorized this speech before beginning. “There was nearly unanimous agreement among the members of the defense subcommittee who are present at Glenlyon that you should be immediately relieved of command for both risking Glenlyon’s sole remaining warship on a mission that required very generous interpretation of your orders and for risking Glenlyon itself by leaving it unprotected for so long.”
Another pause. Rob waited, nerving himself for whatever came next.
“As I said,” Chisholm continued, “the agreement was nearly unanimous. I did not agree, and as president, my vote counted for more than the others. My decision was not an easy one. I am worried about your taking it as a sign that adventurism will be rewarded, or at the very least that the government will turn a blind eye to such broad interpretations of the orders given to our military.
“But I’m not a fool. Your reasoning, that the forces arrayed against us could not simultaneously assault Kosatka with such strength and also attack Glenlyon, was sound. Your account of the events at Kosatka, supported by the records from Saber’s combat systems that you forwarded, and by the message from First Minister Hofer of Kosatka, show that Saber’s presence there, and your decision to act in conjunction with Kosatka’s forces, made a decisive difference. I can’t ignore that. The forces that would have subdued Kosatka would surely have regrouped and headed next for Glenlyon, vastly overmatching our own defenses. Instead, we now have a firm commitment from Kosatka to contribute forces to our defense if we should call for them.
“There may be a fine line between a hero and a fool, between someone who accurately perceives what must be done despite the risks and someone who stretches their neck out until it is cut off. Perhaps,” Chisholm said, “that line is simply the difference between winning and losing. Had you lost, had Saber been destroyed and your efforts to help Kosatka failed, then you, Commander, would be not just relieved of command but, if you had survived, also thrown into the worst prison that Glenlyon could build. But you won. Your decisions were validated by the results. Which means that the forces arrayed against both Glenlyon and Kosatka have been badly hurt, Kosatka is once again deeply in debt to Glenlyon, and other star systems wondering whether to support us will know that Glenlyon will risk everything it has to help its friends.”
Chisholm finally smiled, a thin, hard expression. “That last may in the long term prove to be the most important result of all. We’re going to need more friends. So, Commander Geary, you’ve saved Kosatka and your own neck. And there’s no doubt that under your command Saber’s crew has a . . . fighting spirit . . . that wasn’t seen from Claymore. Lieutenant Commander Shen’s willingness to risk herself speaks well of her devotion to duty. And the actions of Captain Darcy have wiped out any resistance among the council to the idea of a Marine force for Glenlyon.
“That’s the good news. Unfortunately, we have to agree with the assessment in the message to our government by the First Minister of Kosatka that simply defeating this attack will not eliminate the danger. Scatha, Apulu, and Turan remain untouched by the aggression they keep launching against others. And that, Commander Geary, is ultimately what decided it for me. Glenlyon is going to need you again. I’m certain of it. And this time I want to ensure that you are there rather than having to beg you to come back to service.”
President Chisholm nodded slowly. “Welcome back,” she repeated.
The message ended.
Rob was still sitting at his desk, gazing at where the message had been, when Vicki Shen knocked on the hatch.
“Sir?”
He looked over at her. “Bad news. You’re not being given command of Saber.”
She gave him a dumbfounded look, then smiled. “Darn.”
* * *
• • •
Getting to Glenlyon’s primary world and docking at the orbital facility seemed to take an eternity. Ninja had sent Rob a reply to his personal message, all smiles. “I knew you were okay,” she said. “I knew I’d feel it if something happened to you, and it didn’t. I can’t wait to see you in person again.”
He let most of the crew off the ship first, waiting and thanking them for the jobs they’d done as they rushed off to greet family members, loved ones, and friends, or for those unattached to simply head for the nearest bar before it got too busy.
Rob finally followed, walking off Saber’s quarterdeck and through the access tube to the facility and out into the entry hall, where sailors and families were mingling in a riot of almost feverish celebration.
Life was a truly amazing thing. Sometimes it was too easy to forget that. But not right now.
He saw Ninja, his heart feeling as if it stopped for a few seconds. She looked his way, smiling, and his heart started again. Somehow he was next to her and she was in his arms and they were kissing and Little Ninja ran up to wrap her arms around Rob’s leg and the world that had felt askew for months was suddenly back just as it should be. He’d been briefly startled to see how much larger Ninja was. Despite counting the days and the weeks, it wasn’t until he saw how much farther along her pregnancy was that the passage of time really hit, how long it had been that he’d been away from home.
She finally broke the kiss, smiling at him. “Hey, sailor. New in town?”
“And looking for a place to shack up tonight,” Rob said, grinning.
“I know a place. Mele! Come here, girl!”
Rob stood a little back as Ninja embraced Mele. “Thanks for bringing him back, Mele.”
“I did promise,” Mele said.
“Hey, Little Ninja, look who’s here!”
Little Ninja broke her lock on Rob’s leg to race to Mele. “Aunt Mele! OORAH!”
Ninja rubbed her ear at the noise. “She’s been practicing for when you got back.”
“Oorah!” Mele agreed with a laugh as she picked up Rob’s daughter. “How’s my little Marine?”
Rob watched them. “Mele, at times like this I always feel a bit sad that you don’t have a family or other loved ones to greet you.”
“Who says I don’t have a family?” Mele chided Rob. “Hey, Little Ninja, who am I?”
“Aunt Mele!”
“Are we family?”
“OORAH!”
“I stand corrected,” Rob said. “How about coming for dinner tonight?”
Mele shook her head, putting down Little Ninja. “I imagine you and Ninja have a few things to catch up on. How about tomorrow? Tonight I’m going to meet my guys at the bar so we can drink farewells to our missing friends. That’s one tradition I’m going to set in stone.”
Ninja nodded, her expression serious. “Make one round on us. And thank you again.”
Mele smiled and nodded in return. “Thank your guy there. He came through for me, speaking of traditions. The fleet’s always there for the Marines, right?”
“Right,” Rob said, “and the Marines are always there for the fleet.”
“Be careful tonight,” Ninja added. “I hear that the new security chief here is pretty tough on rowdy parties in bars.”
“Now you made it a dare,” Mele pretended to complain. “See you around.” Raising her voice so it filled the room, she called out, “Marines! Muster in the Planet View Bar at Eighteen Hundred! Farewell to absent friends!”
“Eighteen hundred, Planet View Bar!” the reply thundered back from various places.
Rob and Ninja walked back toward their home, Rob carrying their daughter.
“How long will you be here?” Ninja asked in a low voice.
“Awhile,”
Rob said. “There’s plenty of damage to be repaired on Saber. The number one pulse particle beam projector will need to be completely replaced. And . . . we’re going to need some replacement crew.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Ninja advised him. “Most of the survivors from the Claymore will be beating down your door to get a job on Saber.”
“I don’t think we’re going to be leaving Glenlyon again. Not anytime soon,” Rob said. “If that destroyer made it back to Apulu, they’ll know Glenlyon played a role in their defeat at Kosatka.”
“And they’ll come here to get revenge.”
“They took some losses,” Rob said. “It’ll take them awhile to hit us again. If Leigh Camagan can get us some extra help before then, things might not be that bad.”
“Did I mention that in his message to the government that guy Hofer from Kosatka attached copies of a bunch of encrypted files they’d captured from the guys who invaded them? And that the government has asked a certain specialist to see if she can break them?”
“Have you had any luck so far?” Rob asked, curious but also worried about what the answer might be.
“A bit.” Ninja jogged her head upward, toward space. “They are planning to hit us again, and I think there are some data in there on how many warships they’ll have left after the fight at Kosatka. We may not have all that much time.”
“I’m surprised you’re not more worried about that.”
“I’m great at hiding my feelings. Remember how long it took you to figure out I was interested in you? But as long as you’re here, we’ll handle whatever comes next when it comes. And I hear you made some new friends out there.”
“I guess. Kosatka finally committed to a formal defense agreement with us.”
Ninja gave him an inquisitive look. “Did I also hear you met Salomon out there? From Alfar?”
“You knew Salomon?”
“Met her a couple of times at, um, disciplinary proceedings before I got kicked out of the fleet. Tough but fair. How’s she doing?”
Rob looked away from Ninja, his thoughts in turmoil. “She’s dead. Died fighting the invasion. Along with . . . I lost some more people, Ninja.”
Little Ninja squirmed wordlessly in his arms, sensing his distress. Ninja’s voice went soft and low. “I know.”
“So did Mele. I wish I could handle it as well as she does.”
“Mele feels it as badly as you do. She just doesn’t show it the same way.”
“I don’t want to do this.”
Ninja stopped walking, holding him. “Hey. If you don’t do this, who’s going to save us next time?”
“Ninja . . .”
“I know.”
“What if Little Ninja does decide to become a Marine? What if our son decides to join Glenlyon’s fleet?”
She laughed. “It’s not like there’s this long tradition in our families of military service, Rob. But if they do, there are worse ways to make a living, right?”
“But—”
“Hey. That’s tomorrow. So is whatever else Scatha and its ugly friends are planning. Tonight, you’re back. Can we have one night? Welcome home, sailor.”
Ron smiled at her, trying not to think about what might happen next, about what Scatha might do when they learned from that destroyer that Glenlyon had frustrated their designs at Kosatka. A vast shadow loomed over tomorrow.
Rob’s comm pad chimed. He looked down at it, seeing a short text message from Mele Darcy. Tell Ninja I’ve got your back, space squid.
He tapped a quick reply. She knows. Same here.
Plus Ninja by his side, the officers and crew of Saber, the people like Commander Derian, whom he’d supported in the fighting at Kosatka, whatever Leigh Camagan managed to accomplish . . .
He couldn’t do it alone, but he wasn’t alone. And now neither was Glenlyon.
“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 and the Lost Stars series as well as the Stark's War series, the Paul Sinclair series and the Pillars of Reality series.
What’s next on
your reading list?
Discover your next
great read!
* * *
Get personalized book picks and up-to-date news about this author.
Sign up now.
Ascendant Page 36