Valiant tlf-4

by Jack Campbell

  “That’s not the point,” Geary objected bitterly.

  “No, of course not. You don’t judge yourself in relation to people like Falco.” Rione exhaled slowly. “As far as I can tell, all three of those officers did indeed die on their ships.”

  The idea that they might not have hadn’t even occurred to Geary. “Is there some reason to think they didn’t?”

  Her smile held no humor. “A suspicious mind. Had Captain Faresa had time, I think her sympathizers among the crew would’ve helped her get off Majestic. But no one had such an opportunity. Those seeking to use Falco might have tried to get him off of Warrior, but …” She paused. “A fool and insane, but his last act was to refuse the chance to be evacuated from Warrior. You hadn’t heard? A few witnesses survived. Falco declared it his duty to remain with Warrior, though it’s hard to say if he truly realized what was happening. I suppose we can be charitable to the dead and assume he did.”

  Geary had no trouble believing it. He could see in his imagination Captain Falco moving dramatically through the shattered passageways of Warrior, Falco’s practiced expression of confident camaraderie being turned to the officers and sailors with him awaiting their doom. The perfect theatrical role, and if Falco had recovered any of his sanity long enough to realize the fate that awaited him in Alliance space, perhaps a welcome chance to find his end as a dead hero rather than in disgrace at a court-martial. But, knowingly or not, he had chosen to die well and given his space in an escape pod to someone else who had lived as a result. “No one living knows what his last thoughts were like, so I don’t see any reason not to grant him that.” Geary frowned slightly as a thought occurred to him. “Is that right? There’s no one alive who saw enough of him to tell?”

  Rione frowned back. “How would I know?”

  “You’ve obviously heard from eyewitnesses. You must have had some of your spies on those ships, too.”

  Her expression twitched, then settled back in emotionless lines. “Had. Past tense. One got off Warrior. Nobody got off Majestic, as you already noted.”

  Hell. “I should have realized that your spies on those ships died along with everyone else that didn’t get off. I’m sorry.”

  She nodded once, still revealing no feelings. “They ran the same risks as everyone else in this fleet.”

  Geary glared at her, his nerves stretched to their limit. “Sometimes you act like a cold-blooded bitch.”

  Rione returned an impassive glance. “And you prefer your bitches warm-blooded?”

  “Dammit, Victoria—”

  She held up one hand. “We all deal with our pain in our own ways, John Geary. You and I handle that very differently.”

  “Yeah, we do.” He looked down at the deck, knowing he was still frowning. Something else was bothering him, something he hadn’t connected yet. Something about the Alliance fleet’s losses. Majestic, Warrior, Utap, Vambrace … Vambrace?

  He must have reacted as realization hit, because Rione spoke in a gentler tone. “What’s the matter now?”

  “I just remembered something.” The heavy cruiser Vambrace, the ship to which Lieutenant Casell Riva had been transferred from Furious. A Syndic prisoner for almost ten years, liberated from a Syndic labor camp by this fleet and brought to Lakota, perhaps dead now. He tried to recall how many crew had gotten off Vambrace before she blew up. Had Riva been among them? Desjani hadn’t said anything, even though she’d surely realized much sooner than he had.

  “Something?” Rione pressed.

  “It’s a personal personnel issue.” He had to pronounce the words carefully so they made sense to her. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you.” Rione stayed quiet for so long that Geary looked up finally, seeing her watching him. “What?”

  “Can you keep going?” she asked.

  “Of course I can.”

  “Of course?” Rione shook her head. “We took significant losses again, and I know the havoc created on the inhabited world in this star system by the destruction of the hypernet gate weighs heavily on you. For a long time after assuming command of this fleet, you were balanced on a knife-edge, ready to fall off if the pressure grew too great. You weren’t used to the sort of combat losses the Alliance has become accustomed to, so each ship lost weighed very heavily on you. You needed someone to prop you up, to keep you going, and for a while I filled that role, both as an ally to turn to and as an adversary to be bested. I don’t anymore.”

  “Excuse me?” He studied her, trying to figure out what Rione was saying.

  “Why are you fighting?” Rione asked, turning to face the star display again.

  “For the people in this fleet. For the Alliance. You know that.”

  “I know that those things are abstractions. You don’t know a fraction of the people in this fleet. The Alliance you knew is changed, your own home altered in ways I know have worried you.” Rione glanced his way again. “You’re not fighting for abstractions. No one does. Humans pay lip service to that, to big causes and great purposes, but any politician of any skill soon learns that what really motivates people is the small, personal things. Close friends, family, the small area they call home. They wrap those things around ideals and call them precious, but they’re precious for the smallest and closest of reasons. Soldiers may swear to fight for their flag, but they really fight because of the soldiers next to them. You’ve found something like that, John Geary. Here in this fleet, some personal connection that gives you the strength and resolve to continue.”

  Geary eyed her. “And just what is that connection?”

  “Not what. Who. Someone besides me.” Rione was back to studying the stars. “I know who. I don’t think you know yet. Or you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “No. You’ll figure it out eventually. Then you’ll have to deal with it. For now, I and this fleet need you at your best, so I just accept what is.” She took a deep breath, then turned to face him. “Where are you taking the fleet next?”

  The sudden shift in topic startled him, but Geary wasn’t interested in pursuing whatever Rione’s idea of his personal connection could be, so he just pointed to the display. “You heard. We’re heading for the jump point for Branwyn.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “That didn’t mean you were going to use that jump point. Your old objective from the first time we were in this star system. As close to a straight shot for Alliance space as you can manage.”

  “That’s right. The Syndics should have enough major combatants left to bring us battle, and we know they’re building replacements for their losses despite what we did to the shipyards at Sancere because they have a lot of other shipyards in other star systems. But after what we did here, they’ll have to gather those ships. We should be able to transit Branwyn without much trouble, then go from there to Wendig. Branwyn is supposed to have a minimal Syndic presence left, and the records we’ve captured from the Syndics say that Wendig was completely abandoned almost thirty years ago. From there we’ll have a couple of options, but I’m leaning toward Cavalos. There’s a strong Syndic presence there, so they’ll probably expect us to avoid it.”

  Rione nodded slowly. “I see. Will the mines the Syndics laid across the jump point to Branwyn during our first time in this star system be an obstacle?

  “No.” Geary pointed to the display. “They laid those mines so close to the jump point they couldn’t maintain a stable position. We knew that then, but also that it would take a few weeks for the mines to drift away from the jump point, so it didn’t do us any good at that time.” He paused and gave a pained smile. “Hell, I’m an idiot. That energy discharge will have fried all the mines at all of the jump points in this star system. It wouldn’t matter if they were still in position or not.”

  “Sadly, you’re surely right. If only that had been all the shock wave destroyed. Do you believe we’ll face many mines in the systems where you want to go?”

  “Probably not. According to our intelligence people,
if our estimates of the Syndic mine inventories are anywhere near accurate, they used up everything in their attempt to trap us in or near Lakota. They’ll have to manufacture a lot more and get them to where they think we’ll be before they can try that again.”

  “Good.” She turned a demanding look on Geary. “That takes care of the Syndic threat. What about the aliens?”

  “I don’t know.” Geary scowled at the virtual stars. “The aliens have actively intervened against us, and somehow they’re tracking this fleet’s movements, but I’m out of ideas at the moment.”

  “As am I. You need to make more people aware of them and see what ideas they can contribute.” She obviously saw Geary’s surprise at the suggestion. “There are officers you can trust in this fleet. We can’t try to solve a problem like this alone.”

  “That makes sense. A few have already been made aware of it, but I haven’t really had any chance to talk it over with that group.”

  Rione nodded, obviously unsurprised by the news. Geary shook his head as he considered the implications of the alien attempt to destroy his fleet. Whatever they were, they clearly had technology superior to humanity’s. “I’m not sure whether to be glad that we haven’t detected any more moves against us by them or worried that we haven’t spotted anything those aliens are up to.”

  “I’d suggest worried,” Rione stated.

  “I thought you might. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes.” Rione briefly smiled sardonically at Geary’s aggravated expression. “Your internal foes, the senior officers in this fleet who’ve been plotting against you since you assumed command.”

  If he really hated any part of his current situation, having to deal with disloyal officers who remained in the shadows had to be it. “Is there something specific you know? Something they’re planning?”

  “No. But I know they must be planning something, and they must be intending to act before much longer.”

  “Why?” Geary leaned forward. “Your spies must have told you something concrete to have you reach that conclusion.”

  “I’ve heard nothing!” Rione stepped closer, her face angry now. “Don’t you understand? With every victory, with every star system you get this fleet closer to Alliance space, your legend grows and your standing in the fleet becomes stronger. Defeating the Syndics in this system was an amazing achievement, and if you want to partially credit my minor suggestion for that victory, then feel free, but even listening to such suggestions is a worthy accomplishment. This fleet believes in you. Sailors on every ship in this fleet are whispering that the living stars themselves intervened to prevent that energy discharge from destroying us, intervened because you are in command of the fleet.”

  He stared at her, aghast. Did that explain the looks he’d gotten from Dauntless’s crew recently? “You can’t be serious.”

  “I can show you the reports I’ve received, or you can walk around this ship some more and listen to the crew talk. Even the ones who don’t credit divine intervention with saving us believe with plenty of justification that your recognition of the danger and quick reaction saved many ships and personnel. Those in this fleet who didn’t believe in Black Jack Geary the myth are coming to believe in Black Jack Geary the man, and those who always believed in you now have unshakeable faith. Your enemies in this fleet can see that as well as I can. After what you’ve done here, returning to annihilate a Syndic force that outnumbered you and had this fleet on the run, your enemies will be growing desperate. Despite their own disbelief in you, they have to be coming to the conclusion that you might actually get this fleet home. They know they must discredit or stop you soon, or their chance will be lost.”

  Geary nodded, his eyes narrowed in thought. “What do you think they’ll do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m trying to find out. They can nibble away at your standing with accusations of personal scandal, but that alone can’t dislodge you from command of this fleet. Not anymore. Their chosen figureheads like Casia are thoroughly discredited, not only because of your latest victory but also by their own recent actions. You have to assume that your real opponents among this fleet’s senior officers will finally have to make themselves more publicly known. Because your opponents have to strike, and they have to do it before much longer. Somehow.”

  “You make it sound like they may actually attack me.”

  “They might. Fortunately, on this ship you’re surrounded by the faithful, most notably your special captain, who would gladly sacrifice herself for Black Jack.” Rione saw his angry reaction. “Don’t try to claim otherwise. Just be grateful. She and I have our differences, but right now we are fully committed to ensuring that nothing happens to you.”

  Of all the strange things that had happened since he was woken from survival sleep, the idea of Victoria Rione and Tanya Desjani standing on either side of him as bodyguards was perhaps the strangest. “I need to hold a conference with the ship commanders. Will you attend?”

  “Not this time,” Rione answered. “I will monitor events remotely, but I’d like to see what people say without me there.”

  Geary gave her a look. “The fleet conferences are conducted under a tight security seal. No one not present is supposed to be able to observe events.”

  “Ah, well, another illusion shattered. Any security lock a human can make can be broken by another human, John Geary.” She went to the door. “I’ll be watching. What will you do with Captain Casia and Commander Yin?”

  “I’m still trying to decide,” he replied truthfully.

  “You don’t have to be Black Jack to have them shot, you know. Even Admiral Bloch could have done it with a simple order.”

  “I know. I just don’t know if I want to do that. Do you think they should be shot?”

  “Yes, and as soon as possible, Captain Geary,” Rione stated with total seriousness as she left.

  SIX

  Geary walked steadily into the conference room. Although it was actually an average-sized compartment inside Dauntless with an unimpressive table anchored on one side, the conferencing software created the illusion of a room big enough to hold the commanding officer of every ship in the fleet, arrayed down the length of a table virtually expanded to accommodate them all.

  Even though that table was now crowded with hundreds of officers, the only other person physically present in the room was Captain Desjani. The others were images, allowing officers to remain on their own ships and attend the meeting at the same time. Aside from the seconds-long delays in reacting that afflicted those officers on the ships farthest away, the images otherwise acted just as if every officer were actually here.

  He’d never liked these conferences, and part of the business he had to do today was distasteful enough to make him look forward to this one even less than usual. Deciding to start on a high note, Geary nodded to the assembled officers. “May I open this meeting by congratulating the officers and enlisted personnel of this fleet on a great victory. We’ve not only more than avenged our losses from the last time the fleet was in Lakota Star System, we have in battles from Kaliban to here evened the score for all of the ships lost by this fleet since arriving in the Syndic home system. You have every right to feel proud of these great achievements, purchased by the courage and fighting spirit of everyone in the fleet.”

  Smiles appeared nearly everywhere. Geary noticed Captain Casia frowning into the distance and Commander Yin staring nervously at the table’s surface. “Unfortunately,” Geary continued, “not everyone in this fleet can honestly share in that praise. In our last engagement, two ships avoided battle. Or rather, two commanding officers avoided battle.” The atmosphere in the room had suddenly grown extremely tense, the silence so profound it seemed the slightest noise would deafen everyone. Captain Casia’s face had reddened, while that of Commander Yin had paled. No one else was looking at them. Whatever support they had once had was gone.

  Geary faced Casia. “Captain Casia, you are hereby relieved of command of Conqueror.
Your current executive officer will serve as acting commander. Commander Yin, you are relieved as acting commanding officer of Orion. Orion’s operations officer is appointed acting commanding officer, effective immediately. Both of you are to transfer to Illustrious, where you will be assigned to whichever tasks Captain Badaya finds appropriate.” He’d wondered what best to do with Casia and Yin, who had openly opposed him in meetings like this, and the idea of sticking them on the same ship with Badaya, who was supporting Geary for the wrong reasons had a certain simplicity to it.

  Commander Yin’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. Captain Casia, though, stood up and spoke loudly. “You cannot relieve a senior officer without good cause!”

  Geary somehow kept his voice level. “Your ship avoided combat. You had orders to protect this fleet’s auxiliaries, and instead you remained too far from them to defend those ships, engaging only those enemy warships that came close enough to you to constitute a threat to your ship. You refused to engage enemy ships when both duty and honor required it.”

  “Are you accusing me of cowardice?” Casia almost shouted.

  “Yes.”

  The single word rang through the room. In a fleet so obsessed with honor, to state such a charge openly was almost unthinkable.

  Captain Tulev spoke into the silence that followed Geary’s answer. “I am unhappy to be forced to agree that the records of the engagement fully support Captain Geary’s charge.”

  “If so,” Captain Armus noted, leaning forward, his face and voice hard, “and I agree with Captain Tulev that it is so, then simply relieving Captain Casia and Commander Yin of command falls far short of the punishment expected for such acts.”

  “Shoot the cowards,” someone muttered.

  Noise erupted as everyone began shouting, many seconding the suggestion, others protesting. Geary tapped the control that let him silence everyone, one of the best features of the conferencing software in his opinion, then waited a few moments for attention to return to him. “I am aware that fleet regulations permit me to order death by firing squad on the battlefield for any officer who clearly displays cowardice before the enemy.” He looked to Casia again and was surprised that Casia met his eyes even though fear was apparent on the other officer’s face. He felt a grudging measure of respect for Casia that the man hadn’t collapsed.