Jack Campbell: Dauntless

Numos made a dismissive gesture. “I for one am not afraid to confront a strong Syndic force.” The words and tone clearly implied that the recent victory at Kaliban didn’t count for much since the Syndic force had been badly outnumbered.

Captain Duellos, looking off into the distance, spoke blandly. “Yet you didn’t do a very impressive job of confronting the Syndic force in the recent battle.”

Numos’s face reddened with anger. Captain Faresa answered, though. “It’s not the fault of Captain Numos that the ships under his command were deliberately mispositioned so as to deny them a proper role in the battle.”

Tulev shook his head. “The fleet commander gave proper orders to all formations. I could hear them as well as you.”

“You were far away from my formation, and far away from the Syndics as well at the time!” Numos snapped.

It was Tulev’s turn to flush. “The ships under my command engaged more enemy units than yours did!”

Geary spoke loudly enough to cut across the argument. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re not here to question anyone’s courage.”

Numos focused on Geary again, acting as if he’d not heard Geary’s admonition. “Had I been given proper opportunity to engage the enemy, I would’ve left no grounds for anyone to imply I lacked courage!”

“Your orders, if properly followed, would’ve given you ample opportunity,” Geary replied, trying to keep his temper in check.

“You were many light-seconds from the scene of my engagement, yet you insisted on maintaining absolute control of my ships’ movements.”

“I had no trouble doing that with every other formation engaged in the battle, Captain Numos. They followed the orders they were given.”

Numos leaned forward, his voice rising. “Are you saying that the duty of the Captain of a ship of the Alliance fleet is to do nothing except follow orders exactly? That we have no discretion to employ our ships as our many years of combat experience dictates?”

Geary barely refrained from snarling back at Numos, taking a long moment to calm himself before he spoke. “You are well aware that your instructions for this battle included the authority to alter movements as necessary if you believed the tactical situation so required. You had that discretion, Captain Numos. Don’t attempt to blame me or anyone else for the results of your own actions.”

Numos stared back at Geary, his face hard. “Are you accusing me of incompetence? Are you trying to imply that I bear the responsibility for the losses we suffered? Are you—”

“Captain Numos,” Geary ground out, not aware of how his voice sounded until he saw the reactions of others, “the responsibility for all losses in this battle lie with me. I was in command, and I do not shirk from accepting the responsibilities that come with that!” Numos made to speak again, but Geary cut him off. “As for you, sir, you are perilously close to being relieved of your command and all authority if you continue to behave in an insubordinate and unprofessional manner. Do I make myself clear?”

Numos’s jaw worked, but he stayed silent. On one side of him, Captain Faresa was giving Geary a look so fierce that it seemed capable of driving a hole through heavy armor.

Geary looked around the table again. He expected those gathered around Numos would still side with him, but he was surprised to note that many other officers seemed discomforted by Geary’s threat. Then he saw in their faces, in the way they carried themselves, something else, something that shocked him. They’re not entirely happy with the victory, are they? They’re not happy that we won by fighting in a different way. They wanted to win, but not at the cost of changing the way they’re used to fighting, with all its emphasis on individual courage and freewheeling combat. Now they don’t want me cracking down on one of their own and insisting he act with more discipline.

There were exceptions, like Captain Desjani, who still glowed with unalloyed pride at the victory they’d won. It finally hit Geary that the worshippers of Black Jack Geary fell into two camps. The smaller camp, officers like Desjani, were willing to do whatever Geary said because they believed he could do no wrong. The larger camp, though, wanted Geary to lead them to victory without changing anything. They just wanted a legendary hero to lead them in the same glorious charges against the enemy that they’d always employed. And they were having a lot of trouble with the fact that their hero was demanding they fight a type of battle where individual ships truly worked as parts of a greater whole.

They want a hero who’ll reaffirm everything they’ve done before and somehow make it work better. But now they’re realizing I’m not that kind of hero.

The silence stretched, and Geary finally became aware that everyone was still waiting for him to speak again. “I want everyone to know that I’ve never seen a more courageous group of officers. All of you are individually brave and aggressive.” To a fault. Being too willing to die is as bad as being too afraid of dying. How do I convince them of that? “I hope the recent battle has demonstrated how using good tactics—” No. Damn. They’ll think I’m saying they’ve been using bad tactics. Which they have been, but I don’t want to say it. “…effective tactics can enable us to inflict far more serious losses than we receive. We’re a fleet. A combat organization. That gives us immense strength if we use it. I never want any of my captains to feel they can only follow orders exactly. Initiative is very important. Reacting to changing circumstances is very important. Commander Hatherian, may his ancestors honor him, did exactly what I think he should’ve done when he brought Arrogant out of her assigned station in order to protect other ships in peril.”

He couldn’t tell how they were reacting to his words. He was starting to wonder if he’d ever be able to really understand these Alliance sailors, whose thoughts and habits differed from his own by a century’s worth of time and all the changes that had wrought.

“We will go to Sutrah. We’ll evaluate conditions there and whatever we can learn about Syndic movements in deciding on our next objective.” There were some nods of agreement, but everyone stayed silent. “That’s all. Congratulations again on how well you all fought yesterday.”

Geary sat this time, watching the images vanish rapidly. Captain Desjani, seeming slightly puzzled by Geary’s depressed attitude, bade him farewell and hurried off to deal with ship’s business. He became aware that one officer’s image remained in the room once everyone else had disappeared. “Captain Duellos.”

Duellos nodded in response to Geary’s acknowledgement of his continued presence. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”

“I think so. Pardon me for being blunt, but how can they be so damned stupid?”

Duellos sighed and shook his head. “Habit. Tradition. I told you before how important pride is to this fleet. Pride and honor, the last things you can hold on to when everything else is failing. Well, they’re proud of how they’ve fought.”

Geary also shook his head. “Couldn’t they see there’s a better way to fight?”

“Ah, that will take time, if enough time is granted to us.” Duellos quirked a small smile as Geary stared at him. “I decided after we arrived in the Syndic home system and were badly hurt that we’d probably never see home again. So, I’ve accepted we may not make it.”

“We’ll make it.”

“I dare not believe that completely, but if we should make Alliance space once more, I’ll buy you every drink you can handle.” Duellos looked tired. “You must realize the officers you command are not used to firm hands. It’s fortunate you’re not a strict disciplinarian. I’ve read of such. A commander like that would’ve already lost command of the fleet. These officers truly need to be led, but they will not accept the whip.”