Rione’s frown deepened, though Geary also spotted a flash of fear in her. Was she wondering what she’d said last night? Whether she’d actually told him straight out just how far she’d go to protect the Alliance from Black Jack?
Geary kept his tone hard. “You’ve told me time and again how important the Alliance is to you. The Alliance needs this fleet back. If I’m to get it back, I need you working to keep me honest. I’m getting more and more comfortable with being in command, and I’m finding it harder and harder to avoid simply doing things because I can. Because the legendary Black Jack Geary could get away with a lot of things that John Geary doesn’t believe would be wise or honorable. What’s more important to you, Madam Co-President? Your own misery or the welfare of the Alliance you claim to believe in?”
Rione sat up, the sheet dropping away from her. But she was apparently unaware of that as she glared at him through bloodshot eyes. “So much for the sympathy of the fleet commander,” Rione spat at him.
“If you want to medicate yourself for depression, then you’d better try something more effective than alcohol,” Geary continued, and this time Rione’s eyes lit with fury. “You seem determined not to forgive yourself or to allow anyone else to forgive you. I can’t make you change that. But I can insist that you provide me with the best support and advice that you can, and that you refrain from acting in ways that could bring harm to the Alliance as a whole and to the Callas Republic. I expect you to act in keeping with your positions as a senator of the Alliance and co-president of your republic.”
She had one fist clenched and seemed ready to leap for Geary’s throat. “Is that all, Captain Geary?” Rione snarled.
“No.” He paused, realizing that as she sat there halfnaked, eyes blazing, Rione resembled an ancient goddess ready to hurl vengeance on an unbeliever. Oddly enough, even through his anger she’d never looked more desirable to him. “Last night didn’t happen, if you want it that way. Nothing has ever happened between us, if you want it that way. Whatever it takes to get you on your feet again.”
She stood up, flaunting her body, even though she still broadcast fury. “Do I mean that little to you, then? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No.” He stood up as well, fighting to keep from grabbing her and pulling them both back onto the bed. “I’m saying you mean that much to me.”
Not knowing if he could control himself any longer, Geary turned quickly and walked out of the stateroom.
AN entire battle cruiser at his disposal—no, a fleet of battle cruisers and battleships at his disposal—and he didn’t have anyplace to go sit down where an audience wouldn’t be wondering why Geary looked as if he’d slept in a chair last night. He finally realized the fleet conference room would be private and headed that way, closing the hatch behind him and sinking into the seat at the head of the table.
It felt odd being alone in here, no one else in any of the seats, the table and the room their normal dimensions rather than extending great virtual distances to accommodate all of the ship commanders in the fleet. Geary called up the star display, then the fleet formation, eyeing his ships. Yeah. My ships. I’m responsible for them. And I know the Syndics will have something waiting at Ixion.
They’ll have something waiting no matter which star I jump to from here.
He hated not knowing how to arrange his fleet. How can I do that when I don’t know what’s waiting for us at Ixion? I’m used to having hours at the least, and days or weeks at the most, to see the enemy forces and arrange my own fleet the way I want to deal with the enemy. I can’t afford to keep having goat ropes like when we arrived at Daiquon.
It was like not knowing where Rione was right now. He might return to his stateroom and find her there or run into her coming around a corner. And then what? He’d have to assume the worst and act first, because otherwise Rione might go for his throat after that little speech he’d given before leaving her.
Act first. Damn. It’s so simple. I’m too accustomed to normal combat in space, where you have lots of time to plan for the encounter. I just need to assume the Syndics have a heavy force in place waiting for us. And a minefield in front of the jump exit. There’s an ambush waiting. I know that. And I have to go there anyway. So have the fleet maneuvering and fighting as it comes out of the jump exit.
Why not? The old fleet in Geary’s time couldn’t have managed that. Not because it was beyond their skills but because it was too different from what they drilled and planned for. Everything had been more of a set piece then, more elegant, no chaotic melees allowed. But this fleet, these officers who liked nothing better than charging straight at the enemy, they not only could do it but would do it. They just needed a good plan to go along with their willingness to do whatever it took to kill Syndics.
Okay. What’s the ambush in Ixion going to be like? Worst case. If it’s anything less than that, I’ll have time to react. So, worst case, mines right in front of the jump exit. Right behind them the main Syndic force, ready to hit us immediately after our ships take hits from the mines. They’ll try doing what we did to them at Ilion, only setting up even closer to the jump point than we did. If they’re farther back, fine. That’s easier to handle if I’m expecting the worst.
Maybe, if they’ve been watching me operate, they’ll have forces above, below, and to each side as well to catch this fleet in a crossfire as it heads for the main body. Maybe not. That requires a lot of ships. I need to mess up their plan by doing something ships normally don’t do, something that this fleet normally hasn’t done.
He manipulated the display, trying out different Alliance formations and movements, then, finally satisfied, headed for his stateroom, not sure if he wanted to see Rione there or not.
His stateroom was empty, though. Geary paused just inside the entrance, recalling the look on Victoria Rione’s face when he’d left and seriously wondering whether he should have the stateroom swept for booby traps. His ancestors alone knew what kind of retaliation someone like Rione could improvise on the spur of the moment.
Don’t get paranoid about her. It’s bad enough having to be paranoid about my ship commanders. Geary sent out a message scheduling a commanding officers’ conference in half an hour, then hastily got cleaned up and presentable. As he headed back toward the conference room, Geary wondered if rumors of his blowup with Rione had already reached around the fleet, and if so whether it would somehow be brought up.
Captain Desjani had already taken her seat, springing up respectfully when Geary arrived. “Something urgent, sir?”
“Sort of. Not a danger, just something I need to make sure everyone knows before we jump for Ixion.”
They waited, watching figures begin to pop into existence as the start time of the meeting approached, the table and the room beyond it seeming to expand to accommodate each increase in numbers.
As the scheduled time arrived, Geary stood to speak, only to be forestalled by Captain Midea of the Paladin.
“Have you decided not to go to Ixion?” she demanded. “Are we running away from Alliance space again?”
Everyone around the table seemed to be holding their breaths, waiting for Geary’s response. For his part, Geary felt a burst of rage that he had trouble controlling. Work his ass off figuring out how to kick Syndic butt and save Alliance ships and lives, and all he got was more grief from senior officers who should be grateful they weren’t making big rocks into little rocks at some Syndic labor camp on a barely habitable world. It didn’t help that Captain Midea, who had been a silent presence in fleet conferences up to now, wore a severe expression matched to a uniform so perfect in every aspect that she resembled the Syndic CEOs that Geary had seen.
It took him another moment, while he fixed a level stare at Captain Midea, to be reminded by the identifying data provided by the meeting software that Paladin was part of the increasingly infamous Third Battleship Division, home to Captain Casia and Commander Yin, where Captains Faresa and Numos remained under arrest.
The com
bination of her disrespectful question, his own fatigue from an uncomfortable night, emotional turmoil over Victoria Rione, and frustration with the Battleship Division from Hell almost made Geary explode right then and there. Fortunately, he remembered why he’d called the meeting and realized that either luck or his ancestors had provided the perfect rebuke to Captain Midea.
So, instead of going nova on Captain Midea, Geary gave her a grim smile. “We’re going to Ixion, Captain. We’re going to Ixion, and we’re going to come out of the jump exit in battle formation, because I fully expect the Syndics to have an ambush in place there. I called this conference to ensure you all knew how we were going to fight that battle.”
That threw her off, Geary could tell. She’d been expecting to engage him in a debate over his caution, but not only was the fleet charging ahead, it was doing so expecting battle. None of his opponents would dare object to that. Captain Casia, who had appeared poised to leap into verbal combat beside Midea, clamped his mouth shut and sat back.
Geary reached down and began entering commands. The display sprang to life over the table, showing the formation that Geary had worked out that morning. “We’re going to get the fleet into Formation Kilo One before we jump. It’s a combat formation, with the fleet broken into many subformations, each built around a battle cruiser or battleship division, and all of them arranged to provide supporting fire to neighboring subformations.” He rotated the image of the formation on the display, making it clear that it consisted of a staggered series of blocks of ships, twelve blocks in total, arranged into the overall shape of a roughly rectangular box.
Captain Desjani studied the formation along with all of the other officers and spoke first. “In case we run into something like Daiquon again?”
“Right. See, each of these formations is self-supporting. None of our lighter units will be far from heavy support, and all of the heavy combatants will have light units close by supporting them. No matter what we encounter, these subformations will be able to defend themselves, and taken together will let us hit any Syndic formation we run into from multiple angles. It’s not a perfect attack formation because we don’t know how the Syndics will be arranged, but regardless of how they’re set up, we’ll be able to maul any Syndics at the jump exit and provide effective protection for our own ships until we get clear of the initial combat area and can adjust our formation to hit them again.”
“You’re assuming major combat at the exit itself?” Captain Tulev asked. “It happened at Daiquon by chance, but we’ve never worked that way.”
“We will now.” Geary smiled at Tulev, then around the table. “We’ll come out of the jump exit ready to engage a major enemy force, and we will engage them and we will hurt them badly before they even realize we’re there.” He could see faces lighting up with enthusiasm. This fleet loved charging into action. Most of his work since assuming command had been slowly teaching these officers to think as hard as they fought. That usually meant avoiding headlong charges, which had been difficult for many of his ship commanders to accept. Now he was offering them something like a headlong charge into battle again, and they were as happy as could be at the prospect of mutual slaughter.
“All units will proceed to stations in Formation Kilo One at time three zero,” Geary continued. “Formation assignments will be transmitted to all ships as soon as this conference is over. In addition, we will have maneuvering orders to take effect the instant your ships arrive in Ixion. We’ll come through the exit at only point zero five light speed. The instant each ship and their subformation exits jump at Ixion, they are to alter course up six zero degrees.”
“Mines?” Captain Cresida asked.
“Right. Changing course up that much should bring us clear of mines set to catch ships coming straight out of the exit. The Syndics were mining the exits here at Daiquon, so we have to assume they’re doing the same at other systems they think we’re within reach of. Once we clear the minefield, we’ll change course down again and accelerate as necessary to engage the enemy.”
“That’s a lot of mines,” Captain Duellos observed. “They must be sinking a lot of resources into that.”
“It’ll also disrupt their trade with systems not on their hypernet,” Geary added.
“They’re getting desperate,” Captain Cresida concluded. “Everything they’ve tried to stop this fleet has failed, and we’re getting closer to home.”
The statement had enough evidence to support it that no one objected, though some faces frowned in thought.
“Are there any questions?” Geary asked.
“Where do we go after Ixion?” Captain Casia had recovered enough to ask.
Just relieve him of command and arrest him, Black Jack urged Geary. He took a deep breath and answered firmly but calmly. “I haven’t decided. That depends on what we find at Ixion. There’ll be four star systems within jump range of Ixion, five counting Daiquon, though I’ve no intention of coming back here. Are there any other questions?”
Commander Yin piped up. “Why doesn’t Co-President Rione attend these conferences anymore?”
Rumors had flown just as quickly as Geary had thought they might. He wondered just who watched arrivals and departures from his stateroom and how. “You’d have to ask Co-President Rione. She knows she’s welcome to attend, and I have every expectation that the ships of the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation keep her informed of events.” Those commanding officers all nodded with varying degrees of hesitation.
“Why doesn’t she register her opinions here, at the conferences?” Captain Midea demanded. “We know she offers her opinions to you in private.”
His opponents had previously tried to generate trouble from accusations that a civilian politician was having too much influence on fleet actions. It looked like that same charge was about to be raised again. Rather than lose his temper, Geary decided to try handling it with humor. “Captain Midea, if you know anything of Co-President Rione, you know that nothing and no one is capable of preventing her from expressing her opinion whenever and wherever she desires to do so.” That brought grins to a lot of faces. “Co-President Rione lets me know what she thinks and has in fact provided invaluable suggestions during operations.”
Captain Desjani, her own expression carefully composed, nodded. “Co-President Rione is usually on the bridge during operations.”
“Co-President Rione was openly offering suggestions during ground operations at Baldur,” Colonel Carabali chimed in. “There was no attempt to hide her involvement.”
“But why isn’t she here?” Commander Yin pressed, her tone implying that something was being hidden.
“I don’t know,” Geary replied coldly. “A member of the Alliance Senate is not subject to orders from me. As a citizen of the Alliance you have the right to speak with a senator at any time, so why don’t you ask her yourself?”
“A politician, with the ear of the fleet commander on a constant basis.” Resolution’s captain spoke cautiously. “You can surely understand our concern, Captain Geary.”
Geary tried to respond in an even voice, even though he wasn’t liking where the conversation was going this time. “Co-President Rione is an Alliance politician, not a Syndic politician. She is on our side.”
“Politicians are only out for themselves,” the captain of Fearless suggested. “The military sacrifices for the Alliance, while the politicians make bad decisions and big money.”
“Such a discussion involves politics, too,” Geary suggested. “We’re not here to debate the virtues of the Alliance’s political leadership. I will state again that Co-President Rione does not and will not make decisions about employment of this fleet, but that she has every right and responsibility to inform me of her opinions and recommendations. Ultimately we work for her, because ultimately she works for the citizens of the Alliance.” Did that sound pompous? He wasn’t sure. But then he’d never imagined having to remind Alliance officers of those basic facts.
A momen
t’s silence stretched, finally broken by Captain Duellos speaking in casual tones. “You believe the civilian government’s authority over you is absolute, Captain Geary?”
A deliberately leading question, one he had no problem answering, but one he couldn’t help wondering why it had to be asked at all. “That’s correct. I follow orders from the government, or I resign my commission. That’s how the fleet works.” Not as many nods of agreement answered that as Geary would have hoped. In addition to all of its other damage, the long war had obviously harmed the relationship between the fleet and the Alliance’s leaders. Geary’s own experience with Captain Falco had revealed to him a belief in parts of today’s fleet that military duty might justify going against civilian authority. Maybe Black Jack’s mystique could help discredit that corrosive idea before it did even greater damage. “That’s what makes us the Alliance. We answer to the government, and the government answers to the people. If any of you doubt the virtues of that system, I suggest you study our enemies. The Syndicate Worlds are what happens when people with power do whatever they want.”
That was as close to a slap in the face as Geary could publicly administer to his opponents, and he could see it hit home in some of them. “Thank you. I expect to hold my next conference at Ixion.”
Figures vanished rapidly, but this time the image of Captain Badaya remained in the room with Geary. Badaya glanced at Desjani, who gave him a measuring look back and excused herself.
Once Desjani had left, Captain Badaya faced Geary and spoke quietly. “Captain Geary, I’ve been among those who have had my doubts about you. Like the others in this fleet, I was raised to believe that Black Jack Geary was the epitome of an Alliance officer, the sort of beyond-comparison individual who had saved the Alliance once and might someday return to save it again in the future.”
He hated hearing that. “Captain Badaya—”
Badaya held up one hand, palm out. “Let me finish. When the fleet found you, I was not among those who were willing to place full faith and trust in you. I didn’t oppose you, but I wasn’t a supporter, either. After so many years of war I have a hard time believing in miraculous saviors.”
Lost Fleet 3 -Courageous Page 14