Triumphant (Genesis Fleet, The)

by Jack Campbell

  Chief Austin finished working on one patient and paused, slumping with weariness.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Rob asked.

  “Stop sending me work,” Austin said. “Sir.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Rob went on to tour the rest of the ship, checking on the damage, and speaking with the still-healthy crew members, who all seemed eager to hit the enemy again, to make them pay for the losses they’d inflicted on Saber. “We’ll catch them,” Rob promised.

  He found the weapons officer supervising attempted repairs to the knocked-out grapeshot launcher. “This is going to take a while, Captain, but number one particle beam is back online and ready to go,” the weapons officer reported.

  “Just give us a target, Captain!” one of the gunner’s mates said as her comrades nodded their approval.

  “You’ll get one,” Rob said.

  Eventually he was back in his stateroom, where he sat down and stared at nothing for a while, alone where he could let his real feelings show.

  * * *

  • • •

  “Hey, Doc. Glad you made it.”

  Corporal Okubo, who looked like he hadn’t slept since Mele last saw him, turned and offered a salute rendered sloppy by fatigue. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She looked around the medical compartment on the freighter, where wounded Marines and ground forces soldiers from both sides lay in bunks, grouped by their medical status rather than their allegiance, then indicated the man standing next to her. “This is Captain Horvath of the Hestan forces.”

  “We’ve met,” Okubo said.

  “We’re working out surrender arrangements.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Major.”

  Mele blinked. “They’re surrendering to us.”

  “Oh.”

  “How are your patients?”

  “Haven’t lost any.” Okubo gestured toward a Marine lying sedated in one of the bunks. “I told you if I stayed I could save him.”

  “What about the enemy ground ape you were also working on?”

  “She’s over there.”

  Mele looked, seeing the soldier, her face also slack with sedation. But alive. “Who else you got here? I’ll get to everybody, but are there any of our officers and noncommissioned?”

  “Captain Batra. Over that way. And Yoshi, Corporal Yoshida, over there.”

  “Good. Corporal Okubo.”

  “Yes, ma’am?” Okubo responded, trying to focus bleary eyes on her.

  “There are two ground forces medics who came with me, one enemy, one friendly. They can handle things here for a while. Turn over with them, then sedate yourself. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mele went to where a sentry stood. “You know Captain Horvath?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the sentry replied.

  “Your orders are to stay on your post, but not fire unless directly threatened with deadly force,” Horvath said. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “This is Private Ford,” Mele said, waving Ford forward. “He’ll stand guard here for my people. Same orders, Ford. No shooting unless someone is trying to shoot you. Understand?”

  “Yeah, Major. Can I talk to him or anybody else?”

  “As long as you stay alert. No hugs.”

  “Got it, Major.”

  “You okay?” Mele asked Captain Horvath.

  “Yes,” Horvath said. “With your permission, I will check on my own wounded.”

  “Be my guest. I’m going over to talk to some of mine.”

  Corporal Yoshida looked at her anxiously when she stopped by his bunk. “Major, we got ambushed.”

  “I heard,” Mele said. “What happened to Lieutenant Nasir?”

  “They must have figured out he was in charge, because their first volley took him out, ma’am. He never had a chance.”

  “Damn.” Mele closed her eyes for a moment before looking at Yoshida again. “How many others did we lose in your group?”

  “Five or six. I think. From what I saw before I got hit. But some of those might’ve been wounded.”

  “Okay,” she said. “We won. Did I mention that? Good work. We’ll get you fixed up and back on duty in no time.”

  “Major . . .” Yoshida blinked back tears. “I did my best. I did. There were just too many—”

  “I know you did your best, Yoshi. You did good. Take it easy, okay?”

  A few meters away, Captain Batra lay on a bunk, his midsection immobilized. “Got it in the gut, huh?” she said.

  Batra, his face noticeably thinner than it had been when last she saw him, looked at her, his lips twitching into an attempt at a smile. “Hello, Major. I heard we won.”

  “You heard right.”

  “You told me . . . when I’d done something . . . I could discuss your experience.”

  Mele paused to remember that conversation. “So I did. What is it you want to say?”

  “That you were right, Major. And that I and my soldiers are fortunate you were in command here.”

  “Words are cheap, Captain.” Mele leaned down to give him a questioning look. “Next time I’m at your base, are you going to buy me a drink?”

  “I’ll buy you a whole bottle. Old Earth booze.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “How did you manage to capture this ship? I thought it would be very well guarded.”

  Mele shook her head. “Until our new friends showed up with a lot of shiny destroyers, any attempt to capture this freighter would’ve been stupid. We just would’ve been sticking our own heads into a trap and waiting for the enemy to lop them off. As long as the enemy warships were hanging nearby we couldn’t have gone anywhere with this ship without being attacked immediately. All we could’ve done was hold out at the dock until a counterattack recaptured the ship. The enemy commander knew that as well as we did, so he had some guards around the dock, but didn’t expect an attempt to seize the freighter. If the commander on that light cruiser had told him that major warship reinforcements had arrived for Glenlyon, the ground forces commander would’ve known the logic of capturing this ship had changed big-time. But he wasn’t told, so he didn’t shift his defenses accordingly.”

  “Betrayed by their own side! Maybe they’ll want to get even,” he added jokingly.

  “Maybe,” Mele said, then paused as a thought came to her. “Maybe.”

  “You said something about new friends and a lot of destroyers?”

  “Yes. Glenlyon has been offered a part in an alliance of, uh, let’s see, six star systems I think.”

  “Six.” Batra smiled. “Good. I’d like to have the odds in our favor next time.”

  “Me, too. Excuse me, though, I need to go meet with Colonel Busik and get the surrender terms nailed down.”

  * * *

  • • •

  President Chisholm had the look of someone who couldn’t quite believe they’d won the lottery, found the love of their life, and backed up an important file just before their system crashed, all on the same day. “Glenlyon knew we could count on you, Major.”

  “Thank you,” Mele said, thinking that it looked like she really would remain a major this time. “I need to talk to you about the surrender agreement with the enemy ground forces. I held preliminary talks with their commander, Colonel Busik.”

  “What are they proposing?”

  “They led with something they know they’re not going to get. They want full honors of war, which would mean they agree to leave and we let them go, along with all of their weapons and equipment.”

  Chisholm laughed. “No, they’re not going to get that!”

  Mele cleared her throat. “Madam President, maybe we should consider it.”

  “What? Why would we agree to tha
t?”

  “Because they might agree to what we want. There are times,” Mele said, “when someone throws a grenade at you, and you have a chance to throw it back at them before it explodes. This could be something like that.”

  The president eyed her, thoughts chasing behind her eyes. “Go on.”

  “These guys were hired as a unit from Old Earth. Hired by the puppet government on Hesta. Many of them brought families with them. They got to Hesta and found out things weren’t quite as promised, and then they got sent to attack us, after being told a pack of lies about how weak and helpless we were. They were told this would be a cake walk, and it turned out to be a buzz saw. Then they got abandoned when their warships took off. They’re not happy with their employers. Not at all.”

  “I find I lack sympathy for them,” Chisholm said.

  “The point is,” Mele emphasized, “these guys are very unhappy with the puppet government running Hesta. And from my talks with them and with the crew of this ship, that puppet government is really unpopular on Hesta. It’s got control of vital facilities, and the threat of intervention by Scatha, Apulu, and Turan. Without those things, that government would be gone.”

  President Chisholm nodded slowly. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that we use the people who attacked us as a grenade tossed back at the thrower. We let them go back to Hesta, but this time they’ll be working for us. They show up at Hesta in the freighter, announcing that they left a garrison on the facility that they captured, they take Hesta’s orbital facility by surprise and capture it, then they drop onto the planet and start breaking that puppet government.”

  “You want us to hire them?” President Chisholm shook her head. “My government, and the people of Glenlyon, would never agree to pay the people who attacked us.”

  “The payment would be granting them full honors of war,” Mele said. “It wouldn’t cost Glenlyon anything. It’d actually save us a lot of money because we wouldn’t have to worry about handling a bunch of prisoners for who knows how long.”

  Chisholm stayed silent, thinking. “You think they’d agree to that? To attack their own former employers?”

  “They got lied to, and their friends died as a result. They’re not happy, and legally those lies could be considered a breach of their hiring agreement. They want revenge on those who lied to them, and they want to get back to Hesta to protect their own families. And,” Mele added, “when the people of Hesta regain control of their star system, they’ll know it was thanks to the people of Glenlyon. We’ll have more friends out there who owe us big-time.”

  This time Chisholm took even longer to reply. “You’re a very dangerous woman, Major Darcy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Why would you agree to this? These enemy soldiers killed your people. Why would you want to let them go free?”

  Mele sighed, feeling dark thoughts swirl inside her. “There are a couple of reasons. The enemy fought, well, honorably. They didn’t commit any atrocities. I personally would like to see the people who gave the orders to attack us suffer for what they did, rather than punishing the soldiers. There’s justice in using against them the weapons they sent against us, right? And last . . . the truth is, Madam President, I could stand up every enemy soldier in a line, and walk down that line shooting them one by one and watching them slowly die at my feet, and it wouldn’t bring back one single Marine that died in this fight. Far better I honor those who died by acting with honor myself, and by ensuring that their sacrifice leads to safety for this star system and the people in it. That’s what they fought for. That’s what I want to do.” She stopped speaking, embarrassed at stating her feelings so openly.

  “I see.” Chisholm nodded several times. “Yes. What about the enemy warships, though? Won’t they pose a threat to that ship and the soldiers if we send them back to Hesta?”

  “I’m told those enemy warships will never leave Glenlyon,” Mele said. “Our new friends and allies are going to see to that. They are allies, right?”

  “Tentatively, allies,” Chisholm said. “Commodore Geary made some strong arguments in favor of accepting membership in the alliance. But a final decision hasn’t been made.”

  “All right. As long as they help us destroy those enemy warships here. And if there are any other warships at Hesta, these soldiers we’ve been fighting have all the codes and passwords and everything else needed to get past defenses and get things done. The strings of the puppet government will be cut by the time they realize that their own weapon has turned on them.”

  “Free Hesta. Strike back at those who attacked us. And use the attack itself to pay for the retaliation.” Chisholm nodded again. “That I could sell. I fully expect some members of the government to argue that we shouldn’t let those who attacked us go free, but if you’re arguing in favor of it, that objection won’t have much force. Can you get Colonel Menziwa to back the idea as well?”

  “You want me to convince Colonel Menziwa?”

  “Yes. You two speak the same language.”

  Mele sighed again. “I guess it looks that way from where you sit. Okay. I’ll get Captain Batra and we’ll talk to her together.”

  Captain Batra wanted to get a haircut, shave, and new uniform before speaking to Menziwa, but Mele propped him in an adjustable bunk in his torn battle outfit and stood beside him as she called the colonel. Her battle armor was damaged, her helmet off, her hair and face probably a nightmare, so Mele didn’t care what Batra looked like. Next to her, he probably looked ready for inspection.

  Menziwa listened without commenting until Mele had finished outlining her idea. Then she focused on Batra. “Captain, are you aware of any atrocities committed by the enemy forces?”

  “No, Colonel.”

  “When you were a prisoner, did you experience or observe any maltreatment of yourself or other prisoners?”

  “No, Colonel.”

  “Did you and all other wounded prisoners of which you’re aware receive all necessary medical treatment?”

  “Yes, Colonel.”

  “Were you interrogated?”

  Captain Batra nodded. “Yes, Colonel.”

  “Was any torture or other unlawful methods employed?”

  “No, Colonel. Standard interrogation techniques. I told them nothing of importance, and I do not believe any other prisoner told them anything significant, but they did not respond unlawfully.”

  Menziwa sat back, thinking, her eyes going to Mele. “Major Darcy, your impression of Colonel Busik is that he can be trusted to honor any agreement made?”

  “Yes, Colonel,” she said.

  “I assume there is no objection to my speaking personally with Colonel Busik.”

  “No objection at all, Colonel,” Mele said.

  “What was your impression of Colonel Busik’s unit?”

  “Professional. Well disciplined. Very good at what they did. We were lucky that external support arrived for us.”

  Menziwa looked at Batra again. “Do you agree, Captain?”

  “Yes,” Batra said. “I believe that Major Darcy’s plan to defend the facility was the best we could have employed, and the actions of all of our soldiers and Marines were the best that any men and women could have provided, but our opponents were very capable, had heavy fire support, and outnumbered us substantially.”

  “I see.” Colonel Menziwa tapped her desk, frowning. “Major Darcy, set up a call with Colonel Busik for me. I’ll reserve any recommendation until after that call, but if what I’ve heard so far is borne out by my conversation with Busik, I expect to support the proposed course of action. Oh, one thing more, Major Darcy.”

  “Yes, Colonel?” Mele asked, wondering if Menziwa was finally going to offer open praise for her.

  “I trust that before any formal talks are held you and Captain Batra will correct your appearances to th
at expected at all times of officers. Menziwa, out.”

  As the colonel’s image vanished, Mele laughed. She couldn’t help it. “I hate her,” she told Captain Batra. “Excuse me while I check on the situation in space instead of taking time to wash and style my hair.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Lochan gazed at a display showing the lean, hungry shapes of the destroyers accompanying Asahi. “Accompanying” in space terms meaning about ten thousand kilometers distant. Caladbolg, Gae Bulg, and Shark. Without magnification the deadly vessels would have been invisible to human eyes against the infinite black and stars of space, both a reminder of how small the works of humanity were and how deadly those works could be.

  “Hey.” Freya Morgan walked up beside him and winked. “Interested in a little private recreation?”

  “Ummm . . . sure,” Lochan said. He followed her to the tiny stateroom she shared with one of Asahi’s officers, who was currently on watch. As soon as the hatch closed, Freya started checking something on her comm pad.

  “There’s a listening device,” she reported, “but I’ve got it jammed for the moment.”

  “You really ought to find another way of asking me to a private conference,” Lochan said.

  Freya gave him an apologetic look. “Do I keep getting your hopes up? Or is it you’re afraid Brigit will hear of it?”

  “I . . . what’s this about?”

  “Something odd.” Freya looked about her. “A couple of hours ago there was a conference of ship captains. I just happened to be aware of it, though I couldn’t figure out a way to tap in before it ended, so I don’t know what was discussed. What I do know is the conference consisted of Captain Sori, Captain Hubbard, and Captain Tanya the Wicked.”