Dreadnaught tlfbtf-1
Page 7
“It’s not out of concern for your happiness. You and Desjani maintained a professional relationship while you were single.” Timbale gave him an apologetic look. “Some people are questioning how well you can do that when you’re married. If you’re separated, there’s no chance for failure. But if you’re together . . .”
“We might slip up?” He felt beyond anger, wondering at the minds who spent their time creating trouble for others instead of trying to solve problems.
“Just a warning. There are people watching for that, hoping for that, for some chink in the armor of Black Jack.”
He felt a short laugh escape. “Hell, if they want to know that I’m human, I’ll be happy to announce that to the universe.”
“Not too human,” Timbale warned. “You and Desjani getting married raised some eyebrows despite what was known or suspected about your feelings for each other. But you’d done nothing wrong that anyone could turn up, and the marriage was perfectly proper by rule and regulation. But if you two acted inappropriately now, it would give some individuals what they consider legitimate grounds to call into question whether there were improper actions before.”
Geary realized he truly didn’t care what others might suspect about him, but Tanya was another matter. He couldn’t allow her honor to be questioned, especially not because of something he might do. “Thanks for the warning. We weren’t planning on doing anything while aboard Dauntless, but it doesn’t hurt to be reminded that we’ll still be watched.” By those who are hoping that we fail.
Once past the last checkpoint, Geary and Timbale started to encounter other people in the corridors again, his commando escort now moving to march proudly ahead to keep the path clear. The civilians smiled and called out greetings, while the military personnel smiled and saluted. Geary kept returning salutes, hoping they would reach the shuttle before his arm gave out.
Desjani waited near the boarding ramp, standing at parade rest and looking as if no crisis had threatened them just a short time ago. The two ranks of soldiers were once again drawn up as an honor guard. Nearby, other dense lines of soldiers once more restrained crowds whose cheers and cries of “Black Jack” echoed off the walls.
Major Sirandi and his commandos escorted Geary up to the ramp, then the major saluted Desjani. “Captain, the 574th Commando Regiment is honored to return Admiral Geary to the warships of the Alliance fleet.”
“Thank you,” Desjani replied, herself coming to attention and returning the salute. “The fleet appreciates your returning the admiral. We’d hate to lose him. Admiral, I suggest departing as quickly as possible so you can address necessary issues in the fleet.”
He nodded, wondering what Desjani hadn’t been able to tell him over the borrowed comm unit, thanked the commandos again as they beamed under the envious gazes of other nearby soldiers, forced himself to wave to the crowds, smile, and look calm and confident, then walked between the lines of the honor guard, saluting once again with an arm grown sore from exertion, before entering the welcome sanctuary of the fleet shuttle.
No, not sanctuary. Just a means of getting quickly from this crisis to the next one.
FOUR
DESJANI sat silently for a few moments after the hatch sealed. “Did your message to the fleet constitute formal notification that Dauntless will once again be your flagship?” she finally asked, looking straight ahead rather than at Geary.
Oops. “I guess it did. Until I went into that meeting, I didn’t even know what kind of command I’d have or if Dauntless would be a part of it.”
“So after you left the meeting, you told the fleet. Before you told me.”
Geary didn’t quite avoid wincing. “You told me I had to broadcast something to the fleet as soon as possible.”
She gave him a sidelong look. “What exactly will Dauntless be the flagship of?”
“The First Fleet.”
“That sounds impressive.”
“It is,” Geary assured her. “Most of the ships we’ve worked with so far will be part of it.”
“And yet something is really bothering you,” Desjani observed, facing him. “What’s the catch?”
Geary activated the privacy fields around their seats. The pilots weren’t supposed to be listening in, and the privacy fields wouldn’t defeat sophisticated surveillance systems, but he wasn’t telling her anything that he wouldn’t soon be telling the rest of the fleet’s commanding officers. He explained his assignment and the mission while Desjani listened with occasional grunts of exasperation.
When he finished, she shook her head. “I never knew that even Alliance politicians could pack that many contradictory commands into one single order. How are you supposed to penetrate space belonging to a species with proven hostile intent while also avoiding hostilities? How are you supposed to establish communications with them while respecting their concepts of privacy, whatever those are? And how are you to reach any agreements with the aliens without somehow restricting our own options in the future?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Geary admitted. “How big a problem do you think we’ll have with the crews? Being sent out on a mission like this when they had every right to expect a long time at home?”
“Problems?” Desjani exhaled with obvious annoyance. “The government knows that the only leader the fleet would follow is you because they trust you to bring them home again. If anyone else were in command, there’d be major trouble.”
That made him feel worse. “Because they trust me, they’ll follow me into what could be a major mess.”
“Admiral.” Her tone made him look directly into Tanya’s eyes. “You have a very difficult course to steer. Without you, the fleet would currently be blowing apart Varandal.”
“If I weren’t here, that problem wouldn’t have even come up.”
“Oh, excuse me, Admiral. If you weren’t here, then the fleet would have been destroyed several months ago back in the Syndic home star system, and the Syndics would be blowing apart Varandal and everything else they could reach in the Alliance.”
“Why isn’t that enough?” Geary demanded. “Why does the fate of the Alliance still depend upon me?”
“I told you that the living stars might not be done with you,” Desjani said. “As to why, we’ll have to ask our ancestors that question, but one thing I do know is that, in this case, those responsibilities have been given to someone who can handle them.”
“Tanya.” He pressed one palm hard against his eyes. “How am I supposed to support the government, and support the fleet, when each of them thinks the other is out to destroy it?”
Desjani’s hand came to rest on his, and he heard her speak in a somber voice. “Try to keep either one from doing anything stupid.”
“Is that all?” He felt a disbelieving laugh coming and let it out, the sound filling the compartment for a moment. “How can anyone keep other people from doing stupid things? Humans are good at doing stupid things. It’s one of our talents, and one we like to exercise frequently.”
She didn’t answer immediately. “If you don’t exercise a talent, you get rusty,” Desjani finally said. “We stay in practice by doing stupid things often. Can you imagine if humans were bad at being stupid? It might take centuries to do the amount of damage to ourselves that we can now achieve within months.”
He opened his eyes, staring at her serious expression, then noticed one corner of her mouth quivering as Desjani tried to keep a smile suppressed. “When did you acquire this wicked sense of humor, Tanya?”
“It’s a small part of my attempts to remain sane. And, speaking of insane people, shall we talk about events during the almost revolution a short time ago? You should have a rundown on that before you meet with everyone.”
Geary grasped her hand for a moment before releasing it. “I may have to steer the course, but you’re keeping me on it. You’re right. I couldn’t hear any of the messages that must have been flying in the back channels. I saw one update, so I know some of the ships
involved. Illustrious, of course.”
She bared her teeth. “Badaya kept raising hell. He was the hardest to deal with, insisting that the government was trying to get rid of you and all of your supporters in the fleet while all but calling me a widow. If we’d been in the same compartment, I would have been extremely tempted to empty a sidearm into him.”
“That would have shut him up,” Geary said.
“Well, yeah, that would have been an extra benefit.”
Deciding not to pursue the problem of Badaya for the moment, Geary mentally ran through the long list of warships present in Varandal. “Dreadnaught.”
“Yes.” Desjani seemed uncomfortable, then shrugged. “She insisted that you needed help.”
“Even though you passed on my order.”
“Right. Jane Geary was very aggressive about confronting the government, and she hauled more than one other warship in her wake as you probably saw.”
It didn’t make sense. “She wasn’t one of the officers being charged or relieved of command by that message. Dreadnaught wasn’t even part of the fleet until after the battle here. And Jane ended up in command of a battleship instead of a battle cruiser because she was judged not to be forceful enough. What made her fly off the handle?”
“I really don’t know. But people noticed that she was urging everyone to do what I was telling them not to do. On the private channels, there was a lot of chatter about how she wasn’t backing me up. Not that I took that personally,” Desjani took pains to add. “Professionally, I was seriously ticked off, though. I would suggest talking to her.”
“I will.” Geary went through his memories again. “Did anything or anyone else stand out on your end?”
“Hmmm.” She thought, then gave Geary an enigmatic look. “Dragon.”
“Dragon?” Commander Bradamont, one of Tulev’s officers. “What was surprising? All of Tulev’s battle cruisers, including Dragon, stayed on station.”
“That’s right,” Desjani agreed. “But in the private channels, Bradamont was out in front when it came to backing me up.”
“Why is that a problem?” Geary paused to think. “It’s unusual, isn’t it?” His memories of Bradamont were of a commander who fought her ship well and aggressively, but at conferences always remained silent and in the shadow of Tulev. He couldn’t recall her ever speaking up or even doing anything that would have drawn attention at conferences.
“Right again. Bradamont’s been keeping her head down since assuming command of Dragon, and for good reason.”
“Wait a minute.” Something about Bradamont teased at his memory. Her service record. Something unusual. “She was a Syndic prisoner of war.”
“Very good, Admiral. Who got liberated while she was being transferred to another POW camp.” Desjani gave him another hard-to-interpret look. “Her transport was intercepted by an Alliance raiding force. That didn’t happen very often. Neither did transfers of POWs from one Syndic labor camp to another.”
Geary sat back and watched Desjani. “There was a security flag on her record, but nothing high priority, so I hadn’t gotten around to checking it.”
“I’m not surprised. About the security flag that is. It’s funny how hard it still is to say it.”
“To say what?”
“Bradamont fell in love with a Syndic officer while she was a prisoner of war.”
That had been the last thing he expected to hear. That she had been a difficult prisoner, prone to organizing resistance among other prisoners. Or that she had been in possession of special intelligence that the Syndics were trying to pry out of her. Or that Bradamont had some family connections in the Alliance that the Syndics wanted to try to exploit. “She fell in love. With a Syndic. In a POW camp?”
“He was some kind of officer or liaison at the camp.” She saw Geary’s expression. “Now you know why she’s stayed quiet. No sense attracting attention with that in your past.”
Hatred toward the Syndics had grown poisonous during the extended war, its corrosive effects on honor and professionalism shocking to Geary when he had learned of those things. But even without that, such a relationship between officers on opposite sides was hard to understand. “How did she get command of a battle cruiser?”
Desjani shrugged. “Excellent question, Admiral. But no one knows why. It’s absolutely certain that security must have given her a clean bill of health after debriefing her. Naturally, everyone has their own theories about connections she might have had or if she was on some secret mission while a prisoner. All I know for certain is that after being cleared by security, Bradamont was assigned to be executive officer on Dragon, and after Captain Ming transferred off Dragon, Bradamont was promoted to command. Bloch was in charge of the fleet then, and at the time I heard him grumbling about the command being given to Bradamont by higher authority rather than his being able to use it as a reward for some officer politically loyal to Bloch.”
“She seems like a good officer and good fighter, but . . .”
“Yes,” Desjani said. “But. For a while, I couldn’t even stand to look at her.”
He watched Desjani curiously, remembering that soon after they had first met, Desjani had expressed regret at not being able to wipe out entire Syndic planets. “How do you feel now?”
“She’s . . . done her duty. Fought bravely.” Desjani gave him a cross look. “I respect her actions in battle. Just before you assumed command, in the chaos of the Syndic ambush, Bradamont made a risky firing run with Dragon that drew fire from two Syndic battleships that had Dauntless in their sights. She probably saved my ship.”
Geary nodded slowly. “Then she probably saved both of our lives, too.”
“That had also occurred to me, but that was less important than the fact that she fought her ship as well as Black Jack.” Desjani paused. “That’s an old saying in the fleet.”
“I’ve heard it,” Geary replied.
“Sorry.” She knew how little he liked most of the sayings about and attributed to the legendary Black Jack, especially since he couldn’t recall ever actually having said most of them. “Anyway, that’s why I’ve been all right with Bradamont since then. That and, uh, gaining some personal understanding of the tricks a heart can play on people whether they want it to happen or not. Obviously, Bradamont never compromised herself in that prison camp, or security wouldn’t have cleared her even if she was a Geary. Sorry. That’s another saying. But that’s why Bradamont tried not to draw attention to herself. Which makes her highly visible attempts to help control things a short time ago unusual. Things have changed a bit, of course. Not too long ago, if she’d spoken up, someone like Kila or Faressa would have gone after her, but the war is officially over, and they’re both dead, may my ancestors and the living stars forgive me for not being the least bit sorry in either of their cases.”
Another pause, then Desjani smiled for a moment. “I missed Jaylen Cresida, but Bradamont . . . she felt like Jaylen was there backing me up.”
“That’s pretty high praise.”
“I mean it.” Desjani eyed him. “But not everyone took her high profile in this matter well. How do you intend explaining to Badaya and his faction why you’re leaving the Alliance when they think you’re actually running everything?”
The change in topic threw him off for a moment, as did the realization that he had no answer to the question. “I’m open to suggestions.”
She checked the display in front of her. “Twenty minutes until we reach Dauntless. I’d rather spend it necking with my new husband since the living stars alone know when next we’ll have an opportunity for that, but it looks like we’ll have to devote that time to using our brains.”
“I share your sentiments.” Geary activated his own display. “Let’s see if there are any ideas here. Search . . . leader . . . no, ruler . . . fighting . . . outside . . . borders.” An extremely long string of results stared insolently back at him. “Great. How do I sort through all this?”
Leaning clo
se to him, Desjani pointed to one. “Marcus Aurelius? That’s a strange name. Look how old that citation is. Roman Emperor. What is a Roman Emperor?”
“What was a Roman Emperor,” Geary corrected, staring at the dates. “A long time ago, on Old Earth. What does that have to do with . . . Ruler of his Empire, but he spent his time fighting on the borders.”
“Sounds like we found our precedent.”
“Let’s hope so.” Geary kept reading. “He was also some kind of philosopher. ‘If it is not right do not do it; if it is not true do not say it,’ ” he quoted.
“Easy for him to say,” Desjani complained. “In order for you to do the right thing, you have to be pretty careful what you say. Maybe things were simpler back in the times of this Roman Empire. It all happened on one planet. On part of one planet. How complicated could things have been?”
“I guess that would depend on how much people have changed since then, or if they’ve changed at all. This Aurelius had to fight on the borders of the Empire, to maintain security,” Geary mused. “While trusted subordinates ran things back home. That’s our answer. Everybody says I’m the only one who could handle these aliens, so we tell everyone that I have to go do that while my trusted agents follow orders back inside the Alliance.”
“Smooth,” Desjani approved. “And the identities of the agents have to remain secret?”
“Naturally.” But he said that in a sour way that drew another sharp look from her.
“Admiral Geary, you’re only misleading those who would otherwise do things that would cause a lot of trouble for everyone, including themselves. Now straighten up your uniform.”
“It looks fine—”
“You’re an admiral, and you have to look your best. Besides, I don’t want us walking off this shuttle looking like I’ve been groping you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
That earned him another look, some annoyed eye rolling, and a heavy sigh of exasperation.
ABOARD Dauntless, the shuttle resting securely in the shuttle dock, he walked down the ramp and onto one of Dauntless’s decks, memories flooding in of events here. Geary’s last words with the flawed and doomed Admiral Bloch, his later first encounters with Alliance men and women liberated from Syndicate Worlds’ labor camps, and his frantic departure about four weeks ago, trying to stay ahead of a new promotion and new orders as he sought to catch up with Desjani.