“Yes, sir.” She stared at him, leaving Geary wondering what he’d betrayed of his own past. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“It was a long time ago,” he replied, looking away. Most things in his life had been a long time ago. “I hope you and Lieutenant Riva work things out for the best, whatever happens.”
He sat for a while after Desjani left, haunted by memories of a woman long dead, and wondering why he kept wishing Victoria Rione were here to talk to about it. But Victoria Rione believed Geary had given in to the worst temptations the situation offered and wasn’t talking to him about anything. With her off-limits, the last friends Geary had known had all been gone for many, many years.
Geary strode onto the bridge of the Dauntless, frowning as Captain Desjani turned an angry face his way, though the anger obviously wasn’t aimed at him. Her watch-standers looked as if they’d all just been given the verbal equivalent of ten lashes with a cat-o’-nine-tails. “What’s up?”
“Captain Falco is no longer aboard,” Desjani reported. “He arranged transport on one of the shuttles without my knowledge.”
Geary glanced at the watch-standers. “We assumed Captain Falco was authorized,” one of them explained, his eyes shifting from Geary to Desjani.
Geary sat down, shaking his head. He should’ve guessed Falco would be able to charm junior officers into doing whatever Falco wanted. “Where’d he go?”
“The Warrior, sir.”
“The Warrior?” Geary would have guessed Numos’s ship, Orion, or Faresa’s Majestic. “Who’s the commanding officer of Warrior?” he muttered even as he worked the controls to bring up that information.
Captain Kerestes. The man’s service record was available at a touch, and Geary scanned it quickly. Of course. Kerestes had managed to survive much longer than most officers, so he’d actually served under Falco at the same battle Duellos had mentioned. On the same ship, actually. The inflated language of the performance reports on Kerestes told Geary little, but the fact that he couldn’t recall having noticed either Kerestes or Warrior for any particular reason up to now led him to suspect Kerestes was not the most dynamic and forceful of commanders.
Geary tapped a privacy circuit and called Captain Duellos on Courageous. “What can you tell me about Captain Kerestes? You and he were on the same ship at Batana.”
Duellos seemed surprised by the request. “Did he actually do something that merited attention?”
“Captain Falco managed to get to Warrior. I’m wondering why he chose that ship.”
“Because what Captain Kerestes lacks in initiative and intellect he makes up in slavish obedience. He will do what Falco says.”
Geary nodded, trying not to smile. Don’t hold back, Captain Duellos. Tell me what you really think of the man. “Kerestes isn’t a problem in and of himself, then?”
“Don’t worry about him,” Duellos advised. “Consider Captain Falco to now be the commanding officer of Warrior in every way that matters.”
“Thanks.” Geary hastily checked his planned formation after he had finished talking to Duellos. He’d placed Warrior out on one flank to support the lighter units there. Now it was too late to haul Warrior in and position her somewhere with less room for Falco to cause mischief. I’ll have to live with it and hope Falco is more willing to compromise than I think.
Geary frowned, trying to remember what else he had been planning to ask before the news about Falco threw him off stride. “Captain Desjani, that other officer we discussed. Was that situation resolved in a satisfactory manner?” Given enough time in the fleet, you could learn to describe anything in official-sounding terminology.
“He was transferred to Furious, sir,” Desjani replied in a routine-report sort of voice. “As you suggested, I ensured he was fully briefed on the situation and the reasons for his transfer before his departure.”
“How did he feel about the transfer?”
“He seemed pleased by the opportunity it presented, sir,” Desjani stated.
“Good.” It all sounded so official that Geary had trouble remembering they were discussing personal issues. He hoped his advice resulted in a better outcome for Desjani and Lieutenant Riva than Geary had himself experienced. “Let’s get out of here,” he announced to no one in particular. With a last glance at the hours-delayed images of the Syndic light warships shadowing his fleet, then a careful look down the long list of his ships to see that all showed green ready-for-jump status, Geary ordered his ships to jump to Strabo.
The transit to Strabo through jump space wasn’t long, a mere five days. The jump to Cydoni wouldn’t take a lot of time either, but the jump to Sancere would more than make up for that.
Jump space had always been odd, a strange, apparently endless emptiness of dull black marked only by rare appearances of splashes of light. What those lights were, what caused them and why, had been a mystery in Geary’s time and remained unidentified to this day because there wasn’t any known way to explore jump space. In a way that comforted Geary: something about his past and the present that had stayed unchanged.
But that was the only comfort he felt during the journey. Bad enough that the only person he’d felt able to partially confide in, Co-President Rione, hadn’t come near him or sent any messages since their argument. Bad enough that he had to worry, as usual, that the Syndics would have a nasty surprise awaiting him and the fleet at Strabo. They could’ve thought past him, guessing that he’d guess where his current paths would lead and therefore doubling back like this. But if he surrendered to that kind of fear, then he’d be paralyzed, unable to make any decision because any possible course of action could have been anticipated by the Syndics.
No, there was something else bothering him this time. By the fourth day he’d narrowed the problems down to two. One was the new problem of Captain Falco, and the other the old problem of Captain Numos and the other disgruntled officers he represented. I can handle one of those problems alone. But both of them … What if Numos seizes on Falco as the figurehead he needs to cause me serious command problems? When we arrive at Strabo, they’ll have had almost a week to think up ways to make my life difficult and to imperil this fleet.
Even more frustrating, a review of the mountain of communications between Alliance fleet ships before they left Sutrah had come up with none indicating Falco and Numos had exchanged messages, but that meant nothing. With all the shuttle traffic that had been flying between ships, actual hard copy messages could’ve easily been transferred. The lack of detected messages from Falco to other officers stood out like a warning beacon in Geary’s mind. Falco was obviously someone who thrived on attention and used his interpersonal skills to advance his career and what he thought were the best interests of the Alliance. He wouldn’t refrain from trying to convince other officers to follow him, meaning that the messages Falco was surely distributing hadn’t been detected by Geary or any of his firm allies among the ship commanders.
Am I being paranoid? But both Duellos and Rione warned me about Falco, and those two have proven the worth of their advice. Too bad I can’t talk to Duellos since only simple, brief messages can be communicated while we’re in jump space, and too bad Rione won’t talk to me.
Geary watched the wandering lights, got more and more irritable, and wondered what would happen in Strabo Star System.
For a star, Strabo had very little to boast about. In terms of size, it had barely been big enough for the self-sustaining fusion reactions to trigger and turn it into a star instead of a very large planet. Strabo’s satellites were well-suited for such a planet rather than a star, an assortment of bare rocks in close orbits. Geary had seen a lot of star systems and couldn’t remember any as undistinguished and pitiable as Strabo. Little wonder the small emergency station the Syndics had once maintained here had been mothballed long ago.
“Nothing,” Captain Desjani remarked.
Geary nodded. “Are you talking about Syndic threats in particular, or just commenting on this star system?”
>
“Both.” Desjani grinned.
“Are the fleet sensors scanning for anomalies that might indicate minefields anywhere in the system?”
“Yes, sir. The sensors are set to do sweeps automatically, though they’re more effective when targeted on a specific area. No mines detected as of yet.”
“Good.” No Syndic ships visible in the system, either. Geary checked the display. The Alliance fleet spread out around Dauntless, every ship maintaining position as ordered. No threats. No apparent problems with Falco or Numos. Like the situations in Sutrah, it left Geary wondering what he might be missing.
Strabo also managed to be unimpressive when it came to the number of jump points it possessed. Even Sutrah had boasted four, but Strabo had only three. Relative to the one the fleet had entered the system using, the jump point to Cydoni was on the other side of the system. In order to get to that jump point, the fleet would swing past a third jump point, which led directly to only another hypernet-bypassed Syndic system before giving access to a couple of Syndic worlds that Geary believed would be defended by traps or mines because they were two of the same ones the fleet could’ve reached from Sutrah. Passing so close to the other jump point worried him, but there simply wasn’t any good reason to swing wide of it. At its closest, the Alliance fleet would still be several light-minutes away. Taking a roundabout track to open the distance even more would surely feed rumors that Geary was too fearful.
Geary checked the maneuvering solution and ordered the fleet toward the jump point to Cydoni. Since Strabo was such a small star system, they would reach the other jump point in only a day and a half.
He took opportunity of the transit time to gather the fleet’s ship commanders together for another simulated battle training session. Everything went off like clockwork, every ship doing exactly as Geary had directed. Which should have made him happy, but it didn’t. His problem commanders were acting entirely too docile. He’d heard nothing from Falco, Numos, or any of the lesser figures who’d been most open about their distrust of Geary since he had assumed command. Occasional shuttles winged their way between ships on what were identified as routine transfers of parts, materials, or personnel. Geary was positive that they were also transferring appeals from Falco but couldn’t think of anything he could do about it. I’ve already checked with security, and they couldn’t guarantee being able to find any short video messages, even if they stripped a shuttle down to component parts. Duellos hasn’t heard anything, but no one would talk to him, since he’s known to be an ally of mine.
I could preemptively order Falco’s arrest. But that probably would trigger mutinies on some of my ships, especially since I have no grounds for arresting the man. I could order him back to Dauntless, but if he delayed or simply refused to comply, I’d be stuck with either letting him get away with it or arresting him.
I can’t act now without certainly causing the problems I’m afraid Falco might be creating.
Geary put in a call to Captain Falco, figuring that facing him was better than worrying about what Falco might be doing behind his back. A nervous-looking Captain Kerestes answered. “Captain Geary, I regret that Captain Falco has been ordered to rest by fleet physicians on Warrior.”
“Captain Falco isn’t well?” He wanted that set out clearly in case anyone else was listening in.
“Just a temporary … illness,” Kerestes advised, looking guilty as hell.
“I see.” Any other attempt to get Falco would only emphasize Geary’s inability to force Falco to talk. “Please inform Captain Falco that I hope he soon feels well enough to continue working on behalf of the best interests of the Alliance and this fleet.”
“Yes, sir. Certainly, sir.” After Kerestes broke the connection, Geary had no trouble imagining the gasp of relief that Kerestes must be producing.
Other than confirming that Kerestes was worried about being noticed by his superiors, though, the call had accomplished nothing.
“Madam Co-President.” His pride had finally been overcome by his worries.
Her voice on the circuit was icy and detached. Rione had blocked the visual screen, leaving Geary wishing he could see her expression. “What do you want, Captain Geary?”
“I need to know if your sources within the fleet are aware of any problems.”
Her answer took a moment. “Problems?”
“Anything concerning Captain Falco or Captain Numos.”
Another pause before the reply. “There’s a little talk. Nothing more.”
“A little talk? That sounds like less than there used to be.”
“It is less,” Rione conceded. “But I’ve heard nothing else.”
“I would be grateful if, should you hear anything, you tell me as soon as possible.”
“What do you fear, Captain Geary? Your own commanders?” Her voice held a clear undercurrent of anger at him this time. “Such is the fate of heroes.”
“I’m not—” Geary counted to five inside. “I’m worried that something may happen that will imperil the lives of many sailors in this fleet. I hope you can put aside your feelings about me and help me make sure no one does anything…”
“Stupid?”
“Yes.”
“As opposed to heroic?” she inquired, as cold as frozen nitrogen again.
“Dammit, Madam Co-President—”
“I’ll recheck with my sources. Out of concern for the well-being of the sailors of this fleet. Someone has to put concern for them first.”
The circuit clicked off, leaving Geary barely restraining himself from slamming a fist into the wall next to the speaker.
“Captain Geary.” Captain Desjani had her battle voice on, controlled and precise. “Something’s happening.”
The fleet was an hour from the jump point. Geary didn’t waste time getting to the bridge, instead pulling up the fleet display above the table in his stateroom.
The “something” Desjani had referred to was all too obvious. The Alliance fleet’s formation had developed gaps and holes as a lot of ships left their assigned positions. Based on the projected tracks the maneuvering system had estimated, all of the ships were headed in the same direction. Geary tallied them quickly. Warrior, Orion, Majestic, Triumph, Invincible, Polaris, and Vanguard. Four battleships and three battle cruisers. Six heavy cruisers, another four light cruisers, more than twenty destroyers. Almost forty ships.
Geary ran the course projections out and saw them heading for the other jump point. Ancestors help them, they’re going to try running straight for Alliance space, no doubt depending on their “fighting spirit” to overcome the odds they must realize they’ll be facing. He brought up the communications circuit, trying to think of the right commands to issue. “All units are instructed to return to formation.” That was totally useless. They weren’t likely to listen if they’d already decided to ignore his orders. “You are heading for heavily defended Syndic star systems. You will not be able to make your way through them.”
No reaction. The rebel ships kept going, slicing across the fleet. I can’t convince them. Not now. They’ve placed their faith in Falco and what they imagine is their own superior moral strength. An appeal to reason won’t work against that. But I need to make sure no one else joins them. What do I say? “Your duties to the Alliance demand that you remain with this fleet and not abandon your comrades.” That should sting. As it should, since they were running away from the rest of the fleet. “Return to your positions now for the sake of your ships and your crews, and there will be no disciplinary actions taken.” There wouldn’t have to be, Geary knew, since an abortive action would convince most of those inclined to follow Falco and Numos that they couldn’t be trusted.
A reply finally came. “This is Captain Falco, commanding those ships willing to uphold the honor and glory of the Alliance fleet. I call upon—” A symbol popped up on Geary’s communications display, and Falco’s voice cut off.
“This is Captain Desjani,” she called down to Geary using
the Dauntless’s internal circuits. “I’ve activated the fleet command override. Any signals from other ships on the fleetwide circuits will be blocked. We’ll hear anything sent directly to us.”
“Thanks.” If only he had a fleet full of commanders like Tanya Desjani. Geary himself had realized too late that he couldn’t allow Falco a public forum to broadcast a plea to other ships to desert. He transmitted to the fleet again, keeping his voice firm and calm. “All ships, there is no honor in deserting your comrades, no honor in disobeying lawful orders. We fight for victory, for the safety of our homes, not glory. All units return to your places in the formation. You’ll be needed when we strike the Syndics next.” Maybe that appeal to being in battle would reach some of them.
But the thirty-nine ships making up Falco’s force were rapidly forming their own small formation, heading straight for the other jump point and not far from it now. An irrational urge to open fire on the rebel ships grew out of Geary’s anger at Falco, but he pushed the idea aside almost as soon as it surfaced. Impossible. I won’t give that order. Even if I did, who’d obey it? That’s what the Syndics would do. But then what can I do? I can’t stop them. They’re only fifteen minutes from that jump point. “All units that have left the formation, reconsider your actions for the sake of the Alliance and the sake of your comrades and the sake of your crews. You will not survive attempting to reach Alliance space along the paths available to you through that jump point.”
The diverging ships were several light-minutes away now. Even allowing for that time delay, it was clear that Geary’s latest appeal had failed. There wasn’t time for another appeal, really, just time for one more short transmission to be received by them before the other ships entered jump space. He took a deep breath, staring at the star display, his mind rapidly running through jump paths connecting the nearest stars. “All units that have left the formation. Ilion. I say again. Ilion.”
Perhaps twelve minutes later, Geary saw the images of the fleeing ships vanish as they jumped out of the system.
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