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Authors: Jack Campbell

The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught (13 page)

BOOK: The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught
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“Absolutely! These others . . . do you trust them?”
Geary thought about the grand council, the worn-out but apparently sincere Navarro, the hard-to-read Sakai, and the worrisome Suva. Not to mention the other senators he had met previously. What option did he have but to trust them? And whom did he know better qualified or more trustworthy, even if he could pick and choose? “They’re what we have to work with,” he finally said.
“The old dilemma of any commander,” Duellos commented. “You have to carry out actions with what you have, not what you’d like to have. More than one disaster has taken place when people operate as if what they wish for was what they actually had.”
“I’d say countless disasters,” Badaya agreed. “But, speaking of what we have, the ships from the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation seem very confident that they’ll be leaving us soon.”
“It’s understandable,” Duellos said. “They were attached to us for the war, and the war is now officially over.”
“But official endings leave a lot of messes behind, don’t they?” Badaya frowned again. “There are rumors that the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation are actually going to leave the Alliance, sever all ties now that they think they don’t need us anymore.”
“There’s talk of that,” Geary said. “They were always independent powers who chose to join with the Alliance during the war.”
“But to let them walk away from the Alliance now—”
“The Alliance never controlled them,” Duellos pointed out. “We don’t control them now. They have independent ground forces and space forces, and independent governments.”
Badaya made a disgusted face. “We’d have to defeat them to keep them in the fold. Civil war.”
“Or a straight-out war of conquest,” Duellos agreed, “depending on how people chose to define the current relationships of those powers with the Alliance. But either way, it would be the sort of action for which the Syndicate Worlds have long been notorious.”
“They’re not worth that kind of stain on our honor,” Badaya grumbled. “You made a good decision to let them go if they want, Admiral.”
Duellos coughed slightly, probably covering up another laugh, as Geary nodded to Badaya as if he had indeed decided what would happen. “The departure of those ships will leave a hole in the fleet,” Geary said, “but nothing we can’t handle. It’s not as if we could keep them by force in any event. I’ll miss having them, but I don’t want to go into battle alongside people who are only on our side because we have guns at their backs.”
He paused, watching Badaya. As difficult a problem as Badaya could pose, he was also a decent commanding officer with a quick mind. He was also, as far as Geary could tell, honorable enough except for his willingness to act against the government of the Alliance. But even that willingness Badaya justified by believing the Alliance government had become too corrupt and no longer representative of the people of the Alliance.
And I hate even misleading people like Badaya about my role now. I hate lying to them even worse. If I can walk them toward accepting the government now . . .
“In the long run, the government has to be trusted again.”
“You have no disagreement from me on that,” Badaya said.
“That’s another reason why it’s important for me to not be home too much,” Geary continued, wondering what was inspiring these words. Maybe his ancestors had given him the arguments he needed to make. “We can’t have people believing that I’m the only who can do things, that I have to be in charge. I can’t be indispensable because I do make mistakes, because I can’t be everywhere, and because the day always comes when all of us leave our lives and join our ancestors. The Alliance can’t be dependent on me.”
“This fleet,” Duellos suggested, totally serious now, “recalled much of its past honor with your example. Perhaps there’s hope for the government, too.”
“Politicians don’t change their stripes that easily,” Badaya said. “But you’re right, Admiral. Absolutely right. The citizens have to vote in a government worthy of the name. It’s their responsibility. It’s like being in command of a ship. You’re important. Your decisions are important. But if you die, and the remaining officers can’t keep that ship going because you’ve never prepared them for that, then you’ve failed in one of your most important duties.”
“Exactly,” Geary said. “Does that mean the questions you had are now answered?”
“You answered some that I hadn’t thought to ask.” Badaya stood up and saluted. “Oh, and congratulations to you two, if I can step outside of formal bounds for the moment.” He beamed at Desjani. “And you did it by the book! Not a rule broken! I hope that you had plenty of time for more than politics on your honeymoon!” Winking broadly, Badaya vanished.
“I am going to kill that oaf someday,” Desjani announced.
“Make sure you do it by the book,” Duellos suggested, then looked to Geary. “You made a good point about not wanting to be indispensable as far as the Alliance is concerned. Now that you have a long-term command, you might want to consider what happens if we lose you as fleet commander.”
Geary sat down, resting his head in one hand, feeling immensely tired after recent mental and emotional strains and wanting nothing but to relax for a little while. “I do need to designate a formal second-in-command.”
“You can’t pick just anybody,” Desjani said.
Duellos nodded in agreement with her. “Seniority and honor, Admiral. That’s how we’ve been doing command for a while.”
“When Bloch designated you as acting fleet commander,” Desjani added, “you weren’t just Black Jack. You were also by a wide margin the most senior captain in the fleet based on your date of rank a century ago. And even then you had some who were willing to contest the validity of your date of rank. Remember?”
“There’s a lot about that period that I’d be happy to forget,” Geary replied. “Who is next most senior in this new fleet?”
“It might be Armus,” Duellos said, his brow furrowing in thought. “But even if he were, battleship commanders often stood aside or were cast aside when such issues arose.”
“Tulev might be the most senior battle cruiser captain,” Desjani said, her own expression brightening. She tapped her personal unit several times, then her smile faded. “No. He’d be third in line. You’re eighth in line, Roberto.”
“And you would be seventh in line,” Duellos acknowledged with a slight bow in her direction. “I always respect my elders.”
“Go to hell,” Desjani replied without any heat.
“Who’s senior to Tulev?” Geary asked.
“Badaya is number two and number one is . . . Vente on
Invincible
.”
“Ancestors preserve us.” A familiar headache was threatening to make another appearance.
Duellos rubbed his chin. “Badaya wouldn’t simply accept Vente. He would try to get the rest of the fleet’s captains to back him as commander. Which would create quite a problem if he succeeded. And Badaya probably would succeed since Vente is new and needs to build up support.”
“But how can I get Badaya to not object to my designating Tulev as second-in-command, and commander if I’m killed?” The silence that answered Geary’s question confirmed his worries. “I haven’t even started organizing this fleet, and I’ve already got a major organizational problem.”
“Just wait until you get the organization order from fleet headquarters,” Desjani said cheerfully. “They’ll tell you exactly where everyone and every ship and everything is supposed to go.”
The headache was definitely here now. “And exactly why do you find that funny, Captain Desjani?”
“Because fleet headquarters always sends out detailed organizational orders,” Duellos explained, “and operational commanders always completely ignore them. It’s not practical to have someone scores of light years away trying to decide which ships go together and how many should be in each division or squadron, and how crews should be distributed, and exactly which ship and which department and which stateroom should be occupied by Lieutenant Generic Average Officer after his original ship got shot out from under him, but that’s never stopped headquarters from trying.”
“They send out their extremely detailed message,” Desjani added, “and periodic updates and corrections and additions and addenda—”
“Not to mention appendices and annexes,” Duellos said.
“—and headquarters thinks that every particle in the universe is aligned just as they’ve mandated. That makes headquarters happy. We ignore their message, so we can actually do our jobs, and that makes us happy.”
“No wonder the war lasted a century,” Geary said.
“Headquarters no doubt deserves considerable credit for that,” Duellos agreed. “How to get Tulev accepted as your successor, in the unfortunate event that becomes necessary, is a real matter to deal with. Alternately, we try to figure out how to make sure Badaya will act responsibly. Frankly, that may be the better option since bypassing Badaya will be very difficult. Those are real matters of concern; but when the organizational message arrives, you may read a little of it, then hit the delete button, happy to know that you need not do anything it says.”
“Great. Thanks for helping to keep a lid on things when that stupid court-martial message came in.”
Duellos nodded again but lost his amused look. “That was a very serious piece of stupidity. Someone with much seniority and little brains almost did a lot of irreversible damage.” He stood up and shrugged. “Why should that surprise me? My congratulations as well to you both. May the living stars shine on your union.”
After Duellos had left, Desjani stood up, sighing. “I suppose we shouldn’t stay alone in here for any longer than necessary. I thought you handled everything pretty well. Will you be using this compartment for any follow-up meetings with individual officers?”
He hesitated. “I’d been planning on using my stateroom . . .”
“Using this compartment instead of your stateroom will convey a message in itself,” she suggested. “Assuming you wish to convey disapproval of recent actions by anyone in particular. Especially if they’re related to you.”
“Why do I even pretend that you don’t always know exactly what I’m doing?” Geary asked.
She just smiled and left.
Bracing himself, Geary called
Dreadnaught
’s commanding officer. “I need a private conference with you.”
It only took a couple of minutes for Jane Geary’s image to reappear. “Yes, Admiral?” she asked, betraying no sign of discomfort.
He didn’t ask her to sit down. That, like the choice of this room over his stateroom, would also send a message. “Captain, after reviewing the communications records, I’m concerned about your recent actions.” He had chosen to say it that way to keep Desjani out of it, to prevent implying that he was acting because of what she had reported. “To be specific, I don’t understand why you acted as you did.”
Jane Geary’s voice and expression both reflected composure. “I acted as I thought best, Admiral.”
“You had orders from me that all ships were to remain on station. Not only did
Dreadnaught
leave her assigned orbit, but you encouraged other ships to do so as well.”
“Under the circumstances, I thought it wise to ensure that pressure was maintained on those who had created the crisis.”
“Even though you had orders from me to the contrary?” He heard the disbelief edging into his voice, knew he was beginning to sound angry and didn’t bother trying to hide it.
“Comms can be faked, Admiral.”
“You were speaking with Captain Desjani, who was conveying orders I had given to her in person.”
“Her comms could have been altered en route to us as well,” Jane Geary explained. “You were both under control of outside forces.”
Something had happened to her. But what? Geary sat down, leaving her standing. “Captain Geary,” he said, using the formal title to emphasize his words, “I was speaking to members of the Alliance government. They are not outside forces. I want to be clear about my reasons for unhappiness. I am concerned not just because my orders were disobeyed but because of how you acted. From the first time I saw you in action, defending Varandal, I was impressed by your judgment and restraint. You did not act recklessly or impulsively.”
Those words got some response, something flickering in her eyes as her mouth tightened slightly. “I took what actions seemed required by the situation,” Jane Geary said. “Just as you always have, sir. I was selected to command a battleship, not a battle cruiser, but that does not mean I lack the spirit of a Geary.”
He couldn’t help a small frown of puzzlement. “No one’s ever questioned that.”
Her eyes met his. “Yes, Admiral, they have.”
The past slammed down between them again, like an invisible wall that forever divided Geary from his surviving relatives.
Tell her I don’t hate you anymore.
Michael Geary’s last words to him. To those who came after him, Black Jack Geary had been the impossible-to-equal, and impossible-to-escape, symbol of his family. His relatives had grown up fated to serve in the fleet because of their supposedly dead and supposedly heroic ancestor. “Jane, I have told you before this that I consider you one of the better commanding officers in this fleet. That includes all of my battle cruiser commanders. You’re one of the best.”
BOOK: The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught
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