“It doesn't matter,” Hoshiko said. “If you hadn't been here, who knows what would have happened? I dare say your victory here overrides your ... tactical misjudgement.”
She sighed. “I made a call back when we met Captain Ryman,” she added. “Everything after that grew from that one moment. We needed to find allies, so I built the Grand Alliance, pushing our orders as far as they would go. I don't blame you for thinking that I went too far.”
“Everyone else will,” Griffin observed.
“Not I,” Hoshiko said. She looked down at the deck. “I’m going to have to return to Sol, once the final stages of the mopping up are completed. The Druavroks, thankfully, aren't causing too many problems, but the rest of the Grand Alliance ...”
“The war was easier to fight,” Griffin agreed.
“I’m sure it will all be sorted out in good time,” Hoshiko said. She met his eyes. “I’d like to leave you in command of the squadron, once I head home.”
Griffin - barely - managed to keep himself from pointing out that the squadron now consisted of five ships, two badly damaged. One of the cruisers would probably have to be scrapped, according to the engineers. The vessel simply couldn't be repaired economically, they’d said; it would be cheaper to build another warship from scratch. But the commanding officer was resisting the demand, claiming that his vessel deserved a chance to fly again.
“I shouldn't have command,” he said. “Even if I assume command of Fisher, Captain, there are four other captains who will be senior to me.”
“I polled them,” Hoshiko said. She gave him a smile that made him wish, suddenly, that he was thirty years younger. “They’ve agreed to accept you as squadron CO.”
Griffin blinked in surprise, then sobered. “I doubt I will remain in command for long,” he said, quietly. He had to struggle to keep the bitterness from his voice. “It won’t be long before Fleet Command receives the dispatches we sent them, Captain. They’ll order my relief for attempted mutiny.”
“I’m not sure calling a Captain’s Board counts as mutiny,” Hoshiko said. “If anything, it was a perfectly legal attempted mutiny.”
“That argument won’t impress Fleet Command,” Griffin said.
“I’m going in person to argue the case,” Hoshiko said. “I suspect you’ll have at least a year out here, Griffin. Even if they do dispatch reinforcements ...”
She shrugged. “The other captains have agreed to accept you as squadron CO,” she reminded him. “That’s one hell of a vote of confidence.”
Griffin scowled. It was ... but why? Was it a reward for his defence of Martina or was it a stab at Hoshiko, who’d gambled everything on one roll of the dice? Or was it a tacit agreement to let bygones be bygones? He had had two supporters during the Captain’s Board, after all.
“Maybe,” he said. “And maybe pigs will fly.”
“They do, on the moon,” Hoshiko said, deadpan. “It will probably take Fleet Command years to decide what they’re going to do about the whole situation, anyway. You’ll have plenty of time to enjoy being in command.”
“Paperwork and diplomacy,” Griffin said. “Is there anything to enjoy?”
Hoshiko had to laugh. “Being the person who has to make the call,” she said. “It can be enjoyable, if you’re right.”
“And if you’re wrong,” Griffin said, “you just have to learn from it.”
“True,” Hoshiko said. She rose and held out a hand. “I’m planning to stay here for two weeks, but if nothing blows up during the final stages of our operation I’ll be taking a courier boat back to Sol. You’ll assume command from that moment.”
“I understand,” Griffin said. He gripped her arm and shook it, firmly. “And thank you, Captain. It’s been a honour.”
“It’s been an adventure,” Hoshiko said. “But we did manage to do a great deal of good.”
“Sure,” Griffin agreed. “And now we get to clear up the mess.”
***
Hoshiko had half-hoped, despite the awareness that she needed to return to Sol, that something would crop up and force her to delay her departure. There was no way to escape the fact that Fleet Command might well think she’d exceeded her orders, by forming the Grand Alliance in the first place, waging war on the Druavroks or passing human technology to a dozen different alien races. Hell, the mere introduction of human-style education would be enough to upset the status quo right across the sector. No matter what she said to Commander Wilde - and the rest of her crew - there was a very good chance she’d be put in front of a court martial board and charged with everything from misappropriation of government resources to outright treason. And if she was found guilty, she’d be marched to an airlock and thrown out into space.
She sighed as she rose from her command chair. “Commander - Captain - Wilde,” she said. “The bridge is yours.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Wilde said. He’d been splitting his time, since the squadron had returned to Martina, between the cruiser and the naval base. Thankfully, training programs to provide more human manpower were well underway. “Good luck.”
Hoshiko smiled, then turned to look around the bridge. Her crew had all been commended for service above and beyond the call of duty, although sorting out just who deserved what promotion was going to be one hell of a mess. No wonder several dozen officers had volunteered to remain with the Grand Alliance. It offered a faster path to promotion than anything they could reasonably hope to achieve in the Solar Union.
“Thank you, all of you,” she said. She knew she’d done great things, but she couldn't have achieved any of them without her crew. They’d all pulled together and her report reflected that, although she’d done her best to make sure that any blame fell on her and her alone. “It’s been a honour to serve.”
And, with that, she strode off the bridge for the last time.
Chapter Forty
A bomb blast destroyed the White House today, killing both the President and his handpicked Vice President. Details are sparse, but it looks like an inside job. So far, neither the remains of the federal government nor the Alliance for the Preservation of the United States have made any comment, but sources within the federal government believe that the government can no longer command the support of the American people or the military.
-Solar News Network, Year 54
Admiral Mongo Stuart watched coldly, very coldly, as Captain Hoshiko Stuart was shown into his office. He had considered himself used to surprise - he still recalled the day they’d captured an alien ship, starting the long path to the Solar Union - but he’d almost had a heart attack when the first reports from Martina reached Sol. They’d leaked too, thanks to that goddamned reporter; they’d only gotten worse as the months wore on. He honestly wasn't sure if he should be giving Hoshiko a medal or signing her death warrant.
And the public loves her, he thought, as she snapped to attention in front of him. They see her as the second coming of Steve.
“Stand at ease,” he growled. She hadn’t precisely been arrested, once she’d returned home, but she had been held in custody. He was the first person she’d met for five days. “Just between you and me, Hoshiko, just what were you thinking?”
Hoshiko met his eyes with admirable determination. “It’s all in my report, Admiral.”
“But I am asking you,” Mongo snapped. “What were you thinking when you committed us to war against an unknown alien race?”
“I was thinking I had to do something to prevent a genocide,” Hoshiko said. “My report includes a full analysis of the relevant sections of naval regulations ...”
“Yes, you’ve had ample time to outline your justifications,” Mongo said. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You launch an attack on an enemy squadron, then you launch an attack on an enemy world, then you attack two more squadrons in quick succession and send raiders deep into enemy space. In the meantime, as if that wasn't quite enough, you form an alliance with a dozen different races and present them with human
technology as a free gift.”
“As incentive to join the alliance,” Hoshiko said, “and as the key to making them dangerous prey for the Druavroks.”
“And then, you allow the enemy to attack your own naval base while taking the remainder of your fleet to the enemy homeworld and forcing them to surrender,” Mongo continued. “And now you come home to inform us that we have a whole bunch of allies we didn't know we wanted or needed. You may have had permission to forge ties with alien races and worlds, Hoshiko, but an open offer of alliance is well beyond the scope of your orders.”
“I do not believe what I did is in dispute,” Hoshiko said, with the same maddening calmness he recalled from her grandmother. “However, I do believe it was both within the scope of my orders and the right thing to do.”
“Clearly, we should have been more careful when we wrote your orders,” Mongo snapped, curtly. “It was not your duty to get us involved in an alien war.”
“Sir,” Hoshiko said. “Permission to speak freely?”
Mongo nodded, once.
“The Druavroks were attempting genocide on a galactic scale,” Hoshiko said. “They were targeting countless worlds, including ones with considerable populations of humans. I had orders to protect human settlements, where possible. The only way to do that, the only way to ensure the threat was removed for good, was to give the enemy a bloody nose. And the only way to do that was to form an alliance with other alien powers.”
“As you stated in your report,” Mongo said.
“It worked, sir,” Hoshiko said. “The Druavroks are no longer a threat to the galaxy - and we have a whole alliance of friends.”
“Yes, your Grand Alliance,” Mongo sneered. “Do you expect Congress to ratify your treaty without a fuss?”
“I believe they should,” Hoshiko said. “Right now, Admiral, the galaxy is in flux. The Tokomak Empire has been badly weakened, sectors are slipping out of its grasp ... there is no longer a single authority forcing everyone to play nice. And we are a single solar system with some advanced technology, technology the Galactics will be able to match when they get their heads out of their assholes and start pushing the limits of their own systems. The idea that the Tokomak invented everything, that there is nothing more to invent, has been thoroughly discredited.
“We need allies, sir,” she added. “Unless we come up with a superweapon that renders all previous starships completely useless, we’re going to be massively outgunned when the Tokomak come at us again. Our manpower base is quite small, even with the AIs and other advances in automaton. The Grand Alliance may be the start of a united political structure to replace the Tokomak and ensure galactic peace.”
Mongo lifted his eyebrows. “A United Federation of Planets?”
“Why not?” Hoshiko asked. “Admiral, there’s a power void in the galaxy right now. If we don’t move to replace the Tokomak, someone else will. And that someone might be one hell of a lot less benevolent than us.”
“We can't impose our will on the sector, let alone the galaxy,” Mongo said.
“We don’t have to,” Hoshiko said. “Admiral, the Tokomak set up a caste structure that kept everyone firmly in their place. The Grand Alliance, on the other hand, treats everyone as equals right from the start. There were hundreds of worlds applying to join when I left Martina, sir. The Grand Alliance is going to keep growing even if we don’t take part.”
“And what happens,” Mongo asked, “when the problem of interstellar communications kicks in?”
“It won't,” Hoshiko said. “The Grand Alliance isn't built to be centralised, Admiral; local authorities will have local authority. I’m not saying it will be perfect, but it will be one hell of an improvement on the Tokomak Empire.”
“That’s the argument currently being presented online,” Mongo noted. “But what we do, regarding the Grand Alliance, isn't quite the same as what we do about you.”
“I know, sir,” Hoshiko said. She stood a little straighter. “The decision was mine, Admiral, and I take full responsibility.”
“Fleet Command ordered a preliminary inquiry to begin as soon as we received the first reports,” Mongo said. “It was not easy to determine just how to react, particularly once you returned to the system. There was a certain feeling that you pushed your orders about as far as they would go, but as every decision flowed naturally from the previous decision...
“On the other hand, your decisions could easily have caused a major crisis,” he added, grimly. “And the next officer who follows the precedent you set could spark off a major war.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Hoshiko said.
“There’s also the fact that you currently enjoy a great deal of public support,” Mongo added, darkly. “The story has spread widely and the majority of the public, it seems, believes you did the right thing. Genocide, after all, is never pleasant. And you have a great many alien supporters, who might take it amiss if you were punished for saving their lives.
“It would be a different story, I suspect, if your squadron had been wiped out, but luck is on your side. Accordingly, we have been forced to dismiss all thoughts of putting you in front of a court martial.”
Hoshiko relaxed, very slightly. If he hadn't been watching for it, Mongo knew, he wouldn't have seen it. She had to know just how badly it could have gone for her - and her crew - if she had been put on trial. As it was, the whole affair of the Captain’s Board could be quietly swept under the carpet.
“It has been decided, therefore, that the naval base in the Martina Sector will be expanded and you, Captain Stuart, will be formally appointed as Ambassador to the Grand Alliance,” he continued. “We will do our best to honour your commitments to the Grand Alliance, although it may be some time before we either join the alliance or invite our neighbours to join. The closest power blocs may be unwilling to sign up with us.”
“They might change their mind, once they see the advantages it brings,” Hoshiko said.
“They might,” Mongo agreed. He leaned forward. “Off the record, Hoshiko, you do realise just how badly everything could have gone?”
“Yes, sir,” Hoshiko said. “But it didn't go badly.”
“This time, no,” Mongo said. “But you took a terrible risk.”
He smiled, faintly. “I rather think your grandfather would have approved.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Hoshiko said.
Mongo nodded to himself. Whatever else happened, Hoshiko would probably never see command again, not unless she was recalled to the navy. Appointing her as Ambassador would give her the formal right to enter into proper negotiations - and she could have a staff who would keep her from going too far. And it would probably soften the blow a little.
“Tell me something,” he said, before he dismissed her. “Why do you believe we shouldn't intervene on Earth, Hoshiko, when you intervened quite willingly in Galactic affairs?”
Hoshiko took a moment to compose her reply. “Admiral, we hold a door open for anyone who wants to leave Earth,” she said. “They can enter the immigration settlements and remain there, if all they want is safety.”
“There were riots there, only last month,” Mongo commented. “The marines had to step in to restore peace.”
“The point is, people can leave Earth,” Hoshiko said. “If they want to stay and suffer, or fight to restore order, that’s their choice. We cannot take that choice out of their hands.”
“Some would say they don’t truly have a choice,” Mongo said.
“It isn't that long since we slapped Arabia for trying to forbid female emigration,” Hoshiko pointed out. “We enforce those rules, sir. If someone wants to leave Earth, they can - and if they don’t have the drive to leave, better they stay away from us.”
She took a breath. “But the Druavroks weren't giving anyone a choice,” she added. “As I saw it, the choice was between intervening or allowing them to slaughter billions upon billions of sentient people. And I took the decision to intervene.”
�
�I see,” Mongo said. “You do realise I cannot approve?”
“I understand,” Hoshiko said.
“Good,” Mongo said. “Because you were lucky. What you did was perhaps the single most reckless, the single most arrogant, decision taken since the Solar Union was founded. And it could have easily blown up in your face.”
“I’m well aware of that, sir,” Hoshiko said.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Mongo said. “I’ll see you again, once we handle the paperwork. And then you’ll be on your way back to Martina.”
He watched as she snapped off a salute, then turned and walked through the hatch. It hissed closed behind her.
“I always knew you liked her, Steve,” he said. Behind him, another hatch opened. “She’s very much like you.”
“Yes,” Steve Stuart agreed, as he stepped into the compartment. “She definitely takes after me.”
The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) Page 41