Jack Campbell: Dauntless

“I do know you, Captain Geary. I’ve heard all about you. You’re a Hero. I don’t like Heroes, Captain. Heroes lead armies and fleets to their deaths.”

Geary sat back, rubbing his eyes now. “ I’m supposed to be dead,” he reminded her.

“Which makes you all the more a case in point.” Rione took two steps toward the situation display still visible on the conference table and pointed to it. “Do you know why Admiral Bloch took this chance, why he gambled so much of the Alliance’s power on this operation?”

“He told me it looked like a way to finally force an end to the war.”

“Oh, yes.” Rione nodded, her eyes still on the display. “A daring and bold blow. An operation worthy of Black Jack Geary himself,” she added softly. “That’s a quote, Captain.”

Geary stiffened. “He never said anything like that to me.”

“Of course not. But he said it to others. And invoking the spirit of the great Black Jack Geary helped win approval for this attack. Which as you see, has gone so well.”

“Don’t blame me for this! I’m going to get what’s left of this fleet out of it if I can, but I didn’t put it here to begin with!”

She paused, as if listening intently to Geary. “Why did you assume command?”

“Why?” He waved one hand toward the hatch. “Because Admiral Bloch asked me to. Ordered me to! And then … they…” He glowered at the deck, unwilling to look at her. “I didn’t have any choice.”

“You fought to assert your authority. I saw that, Captain Geary.”

“I had to. Without someone taking command, someone with a legitimate right to command, this fleet would’ve fallen apart and been destroyed in detail by the Syndics. You must’ve seen that, too.”

She bent down, and her eyes sought his. “Can I trust Black Jack Geary? That’s who you are.”

“I’m an officer of the Alliance. And … I have a job to do. If I can.” He tried to bite off the last three words and failed, not wanting to show any weakness of spirit, not sure how that might harm the fleet’s already slim chances. “That’s all I am.”

“All? Not the hero of legend?” She came closer, peering at him. “Who are you, then?”

“I thought you said you already knew that.”

“I know Black Jack Geary, and I fear that the great Black Jack Geary will try to do something heroic that will seal the fate of this fleet and perhaps that of the Alliance and of my own people as well. Are you Black Jack Geary?”

He laughed, unable to control it. “Nobody could be him.”

She spent a long moment watching him, then turned and walked a few steps away again. “Where’s the hypernet key?”

“What?”

She spun, eyes flashing. “The Syndic hypernet key. I know there’s one still in the fleet. If it had been destroyed, you’d have told everyone that to ensure they followed your plan. It still exists. Where is it?”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“ Does it still exist?”

He met her eyes, trying to decide what to do, what to say, and hating the idea of lying. “Yes.”

“Where?”

“I’d prefer not to say.”

“Suppose I said I’d agree to place my ships and those of the Federation under your command if you told me?”

He managed a crooked half-smile. “I’d still prefer not to say, but for the sake of those ships, I’d tell you.”

“You’d agree to that? You know the importance of that information?”

“Yes. And yes, I’d agree to tell you, if that’s what it took to get those ships out of here with the rest of the fleet.”

Co-President Rione’s eyes narrowed. “I could then trade that information to the Syndics in exchange for safe passage.”

That hadn’t occurred to him. He glared at her. “Why the hell are you telling me that?”

“To let you know that misplaced trust can be deadly. But you were willing to grant trust to me. I’ll be blunt, Captain Geary, I’m agreeing to this only because I don’t see any other choice. The ships of the Republic will remain in this fleet, and I’m certain the Rift Federation ships will follow my recommendation to do so as well. But I reserve the right to remove those ships from your command whenever I see fit.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t look like I’ve got any other choice, either, do I?”

Rione actually smiled. “No, you don’t.”

“Thank you.” Geary paused, then stood carefully, one hand supporting himself on the chair. “There’s something I’d like from you.” The Co-President frowned. “I need a politician. Someone who can make an argument last as long as possible. Someone good with saying lots of words that don’t mean what they sound like, and avoiding commitments.”

“Why, thank you, Captain Geary.” Apparently Co-President Rione did have a sense of humor buried somewhere inside her.

“Don’t mention it.” He waved at the display, where the wall of Syndic ships loomed over the Alliance fleet. “The Syndic deadline isn’t more than half an hour away, now. We’re going to need every minute we can get to repair damage and reposition our fleet in readiness to bolt for that jump point. Can you speak to the Syndics, string them along and try to keep them from moving in as long as possible?”

“You mean on behalf of the Republic and the Rift, or of the entire fleet?”

“Whatever works. Whatever will keep them talking. Just buy us some time, Madam Co-President. As much as you possibly can.”

She nodded. “That’s a reasonable request, Captain Geary. I will open the talks with the Syndics as soon as I board my shuttle.”

He stared at her. “Shuttle? You’re not going to—”

“The Syndic flagship? No, Captain Geary. I’m coming here. To the Dauntless . I want to keep a personal eye on you. And on a certain very important piece of equipment. Oh, yes. You told me nothing. But I believe I can best safeguard the interests of my people by being on your ship.”

Geary took a deep breath, then nodded. “I’ll notify Captain Desjani you’re coming.”

“Thank you, Captain Geary.” Another smile, as challenging as her eyes. “Now I shall attempt to frighten the Syndics into giving us all more time.” With that, her image vanished.

Geary sat for a moment looking at the spot that Rione had seemed to occupy. Maybe she can frighten the Syndics into holding off a little while longer. She sure scares me.

Captain Desjani took the news of Co-President Rione’s imminent arrival as if it were just one more malign event in a day filled with them. “At least we’ve still got those ships with us.”

“Yes.” Geary looked around. “Captain Desjani, where’s Admiral Bloch’s staff?”

“His staff?”

“Yes. All the officers assigned to him as fleet commander. Where are they? I’d think they’d have sought me out.”

Desjani looked briefly puzzled, then her expression cleared. “Oh, I understand. You’re thinking of the old days. I’m sorry,” she added hastily in apparent response to the reaction she saw on Geary’s face, “but much has changed. We’ve been short of experienced officers for a long time. The staffs you knew have been cannibalized so those officers would be free to be assigned to ships.”

Geary shook his head. “Losses have been that bad?”

“Bad?” Desjani hesitated. “We’ve lost many ships over the course of the war. The Syndics have lost more,” she added hastily.

“I was wondering why many of the ship commanders seemed so young.”

“There’s … not always the luxury of allowing officers a long career before they’re needed to command ships.”

“I understand,” Geary stated, even though he didn’t really understand at all. All these young commanding officers, all these new ships … he felt the ice inside him again for a moment as he realized all of the ships whose data he’d examined were new or nearly new. Geary had assumed that was because older ships had been left behind since they were less capable. Now he wondered just how many older ships there were, just what the typical lifespan of the officers, sailors, and ships of the Alliance had dwindled to under the pressure of this war.