“Touché,” the First Space Lord said. He nodded, slowly. “It will be done as you suggest, Henry. And I suggest” - his voice hardened - “that you don’t speak to me like that again.”
“Of course, sir,” Henry said. Why would he? He’d won the argument. “It was a pleasure meeting you again.”
“I’m sure it was,” the First Space Lord said. He rose, terminating the meeting. “My aide will show you back to your shuttle, Henry.”
“Thank you,” Henry said. He rose, too. “And you will tell Susan - Captain Onarina - the good news in person?”
“I suppose I should,” the First Space Lord said. The hatch opened; his aide hurried into the chamber. “Be seeing you, Henry.”
“I’m sure you will,” Henry said. He shook his former commander’s hand, then turned to the hatch. “But right now you have a war to fight.”
Chapter Two
The chamber was a prison. A comfortable prison, to be sure, but still a prison.
Susan Onarina - who wasn't sure if she was a captain or a commander or on the verge of being put in front of a court martial board - lay back on the comfortable bed and sighed, heavily. The suite was luxurious, easily more luxurious than her cabin on Vanguard, but there was a lock on the hatch and - she suspected - an armed guard on the far side. She could amuse herself, between debriefings that often became interrogations, by watching hundreds of movies and television episodes stored in the room’s processor, taking long baths with seemingly unlimited water supplies or writing letters she knew would pass through a dozen hands before they reached their destinations, if they ever did. But she couldn't leave.
She sighed again as she tried to force herself to relax. It had been a month, a month when the only human company she’d encountered had been her guards and a number of high-ranking officers, none of whom had bothered to give their names before launching into the same questions, repeated over and over again. She wasn't sure if they were desperately trying to pin something - anything - on her or if they were merely stalling for time, unsure just how to proceed. She’d tried pointing out that regulations entitled her to both a clear statement of her position and legal advice, if she wished it, but they’d ignored her. It suggested that her fate, whatever it would be, wasn't going to be decided on Titan Base.
Giving up on relaxing, she sat upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed, dropping neatly to the deck. Titan’s low gravity had been a shock at first - she wasn't used to working in low-gee environments - but she’d gotten used to it, after a few embarrassing incidents when she’d just arrived. Striding over to the middle of the chamber, she launched herself into a series of calisthenics that - she hoped - would burn up a little energy. She couldn't help feeling flabby after a month of inactivity, even though she’d tried hard to keep up with her exercise routines. Not knowing what was going to happen to her was the worst.
But I would do it again, she told herself, firmly. Whatever the price, I would do it again.
The thought made her scowl. Thanks to the unnamed officers, she’d gone through the whole deployment, from her assignment to Vanguard to her ship’s return to Sol, and she knew she would do the same thing twice, even despite knowing it might see her put in front of a wall and shot. It was hard to be sure how many lives she’d saved, but she knew that Captain Blake - wherever he was now - wouldn't have saved anyone. She wondered, idly, if Captain Blake was currently bad-mouthing her to the Admiralty or if he'd taken advantage of the opportunity to quietly resign. It was what she would have done, in his place.
And he lost a ship to something that might well be termed a mutiny, she thought, darkly. He won’t get another command.
She smiled at the thought as she felt sweat running down her back. Captain Blake hadn't been a monster, not like the legendary Captain Bligh, but she didn't regret her actions. Blake had frozen up in combat, something that could easily have gotten the entire ship destroyed before he recovered himself or his superiors ordered him removed from command. She might have pitied him, once upon a time, if he’d simply resigned when he realised he had a problem, but he’d stayed in the command chair. And his reluctance to admit his own weakness had nearly cost him the ship. It had certainly cost him his command - and any hope of flag rank.
There was a tap on the hatch. Susan straightened up, glanced down at her sweat-stained underwear, then shrugged as she tapped the switch to open the hatch. There was no point in trying to be modest, not in a prison suite. She would have been astonished if there weren't pick-ups scattered all over the compartment, monitoring her every move. She’d rarely had any real privacy since she’d joined the navy - she’d certainly never had a private cabin until she’d been promoted to lieutenant - but it galled her. She was, at base, a prisoner.
The hatch hissed open, revealing a grim-faced military policeman. Susan turned to face him, absently admiring the man’s professionalism. But then, Titan Base had to be heaven when redcaps normally spent their days wrestling drunken squaddies in garrison towns or rooting spacers out of spaceport bars an hour before their shuttles were due to leave. Susan might be in hot water, but she was neither drunk nor dangerous. And even if she did decide to escape, getting off Titan Base would be damn near impossible. No one had escaped since the base had been founded, over a century ago.
“Onarina,” the redcap said. He didn't address her by rank. They never did. “You have been ordered to meet a visitor in thirty minutes. Shit, shower and then knock on the hatch for relief.”
He turned without waiting for an acknowledgement and strode out of the chamber, the hatch hissing closed behind him. Susan frowned, thinking hard. A visitor? The representative she’d requested? Or a government lawyer coming to lay down the law? It was nice to think that her friends or family would be clamouring to see her, but she knew it was extremely unlikely. Her civilian friends - and her father - wouldn't be permitted on Titan Base, while her military friends had probably been advised to have as little contact with her as possible until her fate was decided. She'd done everything she could to ensure that the blame could only fall on her, but she knew - all too well - that others would probably be smeared too. A single person turning on her would have been enough to keep her contingency plan from going into operation.
And it would have killed us, she thought, as she walked into the washroom and turned on the shower, discarding her sweaty underwear in the basket. Captain Blake would have lost the ship to the newcomers.
She pushed the thought aside as she washed herself clean, then dried herself thoroughly before donning her uniform. They hadn't taken those, somewhat to her surprise. She wasn't sure if it was a sign they knew they had no case against her or preparation for tearing off her rank badges and awards before throwing her arse in Colchester. As soon as she was dressed, she glanced in the mirror. The dark-skinned girl looking back at her, eyes tired and old, was almost a stranger. She’d worked hard to claw her way up the ladder by sheer ability, but she might well lose everything, just for doing the right thing. Bitter resentment welled up within her, mingled with quiet relief. She’d saved the ship and much of the Contact Fleet. It was something to remember when Admiralty REMFs tried to pin something - anything - on her.
The hatch hissed open when she tapped it, revealing two redcaps waiting for her. There were no handcuffs, nothing to mark her as a prisoner, but she couldn't help feeling trapped as she fell in between them and walked through a series of unmarked hatches. She’d tried to memorise the interior of the base, when she’d first arrived, but she was starting to think that the entire complex was designed to confuse the inmates. She hadn't seen any other inmates either.
They stopped in front of a hatch, which hissed open. Susan glanced at one of the impassive redcaps, then stepped into the tiny compartment. A large metal table, bolted solidly to the deck, dominated the room; two chairs, one on each side, waited for her. A tea machine and water dispenser sat against the far wall, which was a surprise. She’d been allowed to drink water during the endless debriefings, but th
ey’d always provided her with the water themselves. Did they honestly think someone could kill with a plastic cup of water?
The hatch at the far side of the room hissed open. Susan straightened automatically, even though she suspected it would be pointless. Mutiny and disrespect for senior officers? She’d never get a job with a record like that. And then she saluted, sharply, as she recognised the man stepping into the room. She’d never met the First Space Lord in person - and she doubted he remembered her from his speech at the academy - but he was unmistakable.
“Please, be seated,” the First Space Lord ordered. He glanced past her to the redcaps. “Dismissed, corporal.”
“Sir,” the redcap said.
Susan felt her head spinning as she heard the hatch opening and closing behind her. The First Space Lord in person? What did he want? She sat down, carefully, then fought to keep her astonishment off her face as her superior - her ultimate superior - carefully poured them both a cup of tea. It felt utterly surreal, as if she’d shifted into an alternate universe. Surely he had minions for pouring tea. As the junior, she should be pouring the tea!
“I need to talk bluntly,” the First Space Lord said. He passed her the cup, then sat down facing her, resting his hands on the table. “And you should understand, right now, that this conversation is not to be repeated.”
Susan nodded, curtly. He was going to advise her to retire, she was sure. There would be no need to bother with the performance if they were going to put her in front of a court martial board. No, she’d be told to retire quietly with an unblemished record and be grateful. If nothing else, she'd have a good chance at getting a post on a civilian ship ...
“The Board of Inquiry took longer than I had expected to come to a decision,” the First Space Lord said. His voice was very even, but there was an undertone that bothered her. “On one hand, you are guilty of mutiny against your senior officer; on the other hand, your actions made the difference between life and death for thousands of British and allied personnel. It is fortunate that Captain Blake has foregone the chance to bring charges against you and has, instead, quietly resigned.”
It was hard, very hard, to keep the surprise from her face. Susan’s mind whirled as she considered the implications. There was no way that Blake’s resignation would be seen as a honourable act, not now. It would be seen as an admission of responsibility, a confession that he bore some - perhaps all - of the blame for matters getting out of hand. His patrons had to be stunned, she considered. Or perhaps they’d advised him to jump, hoping to bury the whole affair as quickly as possible. It was what she would have done, if she’d been a patron.
And if Blake had demanded a court martial, she thought, the Admiralty would have found it hard to deny him.
“You therefore pose something of a problem,” the First Space Lord continued. “Mutiny is not something we can condone, but you did save the ship and countless lives. Therefore” - he gave her a frosty smile - “your actions have been retroactively authorised. This is not something I would advise you to bank on in future.”
“Yes, sir,” Susan said, stunned.
“That isn’t the only question over your conduct,” the First Space Lord added, after a long moment. “According to your debriefing, you stated that you were aware of ... issues ... with Captain Blake shortly after you boarded Vanguard. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Susan said.
The First Space Lord eyed her thoughtfully. “Why didn't you bring them to the attention of your superiors?”
Susan met his eyes. “And what would have happened, sir,” she asked sharply, “if I’d done that?”
She pressed on, grimly. “At best, I would have secured Captain Blake’s removal, but my career would have dropped like a stone,” she answered. “No CO worthy of the title would want an XO who’d knifed her previous CO in the back, even if her actions had been officially condoned. I would have been lucky to secure a post on an asteroid mining station in the middle of nowhere. And at worst, Captain Blake would have retained his position and I would be dishonourably dismissed from the navy.”
The bitterness and frustration welled back up, forcing her to pause long enough to gather herself. “I hoped the plan wouldn't be necessary, sir,” she said. “If we hadn't faced a major engagement with unknown enemies, we wouldn't have needed to relieve Captain Blake of command. We would have returned to Earth without anyone ever having to know that the plan had been devised at all.”
“But Blake would have been left in command,” the First Space Lord observed.
“Yes, sir,” Susan confirmed. “What would you have done?”
“My commander nearly fell off the wagon,” the First Space Lord said. It took Susan a moment to realise he was talking about Admiral Smith. “I had written orders authorising me to assume command of the ship, if necessary. And in the end, I chose to help him rather than put a bullet in his career.”
“And if you had,” Susan asked, “what would have happened to your career?”
She scowled. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“It’s a little late for that,” the First Space Lord noted. “But yes, you may speak freely.”
“I was caught in a no-win situation,” Susan said. “Whatever I did, I risked losing my career - and perhaps my life. There were no good options, sir, and no one sitting on a comfortable chair in a ground-based office can magically pull one from his rear end. Our regulations may claim to protect men and women who blow the whistle, but our culture does not. Betraying one’s superior, even in a good cause, is a bad thing.”
“One might argue that choosing to do so shows significant moral courage,” the First Space Lord said.
“One might also argue that significant moral courage doesn't pay the bills,” Susan pointed out, tartly. “And that, after the accolades are gone, everyone that person works with will remember.”
“One might,” the First Space Lord agreed.
He leaned forward. “As I said, the Board of Inquiry has retroactively authorised your actions on HMS Vanguard,” he stated. “A copy of their final report will be made available to you, if you wish; for the moment, all you need to know is that you are officially in the clear.”
Susan nodded. “What about my crew?”
The First Space Lord looked pained. “Yes, you covered that nicely,” he said. “Just about everyone involved cannot be charged with anything, as you painted yourself as the sole mover behind the ... contingency plan. Given the situation, the Board of Inquiry has quietly decided to drop the issue. I believe they will be advised to try to avoid plotting against their next commanding officer.”
Because there won’t be a second chance, Susan thought.
“You have been formally confirmed as commanding officer of HMS Vanguard, retroactively from the date you assumed command,” the First Space Lord continued. “You’ll take a shuttle from Titan Base to L4, where you will ...”
Susan stared at him. “I’m in command again?”
“Yes,” the First Space Lord said. “Under the circumstances, it was either confirm you as Vanguard’s commanding officer or try to court martial you. The former allows us to bury as much as possible of the affair before the media starts asking too many questions. As far as anyone is concerned - and I suggest you stick with it - you spent the last month in a top-secret military base, assisting the analysts in studying the records from the battle.”
“Understood, sir,” Susan said. She was in command? She hadn't dared to hope she’d be allowed to return to Vanguard - or anything bigger than an asteroid mining base. “Sir ... what is the ship’s condition?”
“Your presumptive XO has also been promoted and will brief you, upon your return to command,” the First Space Lord said. “For now, suffice it to say that we will be sending a major task force to assist the Tadpoles.”
He rose. “The guards will assist you in packing up before you leave this place,” he added, dryly. Clearly, he knew as well as she did that she had nothing to pac
k. “And one other thing?”
Susan rose, too. “Yes, sir?”
“I understand that you were trapped in a hellish situation,” the First Space Lord said. “And that it had political implications that were not immediately obvious to you. And I do not blame you for the decisions you took.”
“Yes, sir,” Susan said.
“But ... the decisions you took could easily have been seen in a worse light,” the First Space Lord added. “I suggest - very strongly - that you don’t do anything to blot your copybook over the next few years. You’ve made a number of political enemies, Captain, and those enemies will stop at nothing to see your scalp being pinned to their walls.”
“I understand, sir,” Susan said, tiredly. She understood more of the political and naval realities than she cared to admit. She had no patrons of her own, no friends in high places. If someone with a title wanted her gone, it wouldn't be long before they found a suitable excuse to dismiss her from the navy. “It won’t happen again.”
“I should hope not,” the First Space Lord said. “And remember, as far as anyone is concerned, this month never happened. The records are sealed and will remain so until everyone involved is safely dead.”
The Dark Star War (Codex Regius Book 3) Page 36