Courageous

by Jack Campbell

  Tyrosian’s alarm was obvious. “That wouldn’t be wise at all, sir. They’d know why we need those particular materials. They’re all trace elements, found and used in small quantities. The Syndics could easily contaminate or destroy whatever stockpiles exist, since they wouldn’t be large.”

  It just kept getting better. Geary’s eyes went back to the display. He had to surprise the Syndics with a raid on a mining facility, which would have been a lot easier if the Syndics hadn’t been able to see every one of his ships coming for days before they reached their objective. “Is there anything else I need to know, Captain Tyrosian? Anything else the auxiliaries need? Anything else that might impair their ability to keep this fleet in fuel cells and expendable munitions?” Not that he really wanted to hear any more bad news, but bad news never got better just because you didn’t listen to it. Usually, it got worse.

  Tyrosian shook her head again. “No, sir. Nothing of which I’m aware. I’ll have each department on every auxiliary do a worst-case assessment, just to be certain.”

  “Good.” Now, what to do about Tyrosian? She had screwed up mightily and left Geary to find out instead of telling him. The mistake had quite literally put the entire fleet at greater risk, and with the entire fleet fleeing for its life deep in Syndic space, increasing that risk took real effort.

  But she had done a good job, or at least a decent one, up until now. And who did he choose in her place if he relieved her? The captain of Titan was enthusiastic but too young and inexperienced. In a fleet heavily focused on honor and seniority, elevating him to command of the auxiliaries division would create a lot of resentment, and there wasn’t even any guarantee that he could handle that much responsibility this soon. Goblin’s captain had a service record remarkable for its bland mediocrity. Jinn’s commanding officer had only recently assumed the position after Geary had relieved his predecessor. And that predecessor, Captain Gundel, had been so aggressively uninterested in serving the needs of the warships that he might as well have been deliberately helping the ends of the enemy. Gundel was parked in a small office somewhere on Titan, under orders to produce an exhaustive study on the fleet’s needs, whose sole purpose was to get him completely out of Geary’s hair, even if it took years to get this fleet home.

  Remembering Gundel made Geary’s decision easier. Tyrosian might not be perfect, but the alternatives all seemed worse. And, damn it all, as far as I can tell, she’s tried her hardest. “Captain Tyrosian, I’m unhappy that we’re faced with this situation, and I wish you had brought it to my attention sooner, but you have analyzed the cause of the problem and I trust are taking measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again.” At least, he was confident she would be taking such measures as soon as she heard Geary saying that. “I need your best estimate for a shopping list of what we need, and I want a team of engineers ready to physically land at any Syndic mining facilities and assess the stockpiles. Get both of those things ready.”

  Tyrosian blinked as if surprised. “Yes, sir.” Had she realized she was in danger of being relieved? Probably. She might not be among his best officers, but she was good enough to be among those who understood the concept of responsibility. Unlike his worst officers. If only the real idiots among his captains were willing to offer their resignations when they made big mistakes. But of course they wouldn’t, even if they did manage to realize they’d messed up badly. That was one of the main things that made them idiots.

  Geary favored Tyrosian with another confident look. “I also need a plan for replenishing and refueling the fleet’s ships with what the auxiliaries were able to manufacture on the way here, with priority for those with the lowest fuel and expendable munitions stockpiles.”

  “Yes, sir. That’s not a problem. Can the fleet formation be adjusted?”

  “Yeah. I want the resupply done as quickly and efficiently as possible.”

  “You’ll get that,” Tyrosian promised. She hesitated. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Geary paused, too. This time he felt sure his expression was genuine as he nodded to Tyrosian. “Thank you, Captain. I already knew that. That’s why you’re still in command of Witch and the auxiliaries division, and that’s why I’m confident you’ll perform well in both of those positions.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment after Tyrosian’s image vanished, hoping he had handled that right, trying to figure out if he had truly meant what he had said or just been playing political games. Presenting a false face to the enemy could play as big a role in winning as divisions of battleships. Geary was comfortable with that. But he sometimes had to do the same with his own officers, and he had never managed to be at ease with it. Did he really believe in Tyrosian, or did he just regard her as the least bad of the choices available to him? But even if I did feel that way, what purpose would it serve to tell her that?

  There’s work to be done. Stop brooding. Geary’s eyes opened and swung back to the display of Baldur System. He wasn’t at all sure how they’d manage to get those raw materials from the Syndics, but he was certain who he needed to do it. Geary tapped his controls to bring up another window. Within moments, the image of his Marine commander appeared. “Colonel Carabali, we have a job for your troops.”

  HERE we go again. Geary braced himself, then entered the compartment where he held meetings with his fleet captains. It wasn’t very large, and the table within could only comfortably seat perhaps a dozen people in reality, but the fleet’s virtual conferencing software made the room and the table apparently big enough to hold every captain in the fleet. After enduring numerous meetings in here, Geary was still trying to decide if that was a blessing or a curse.

  He took up position at the head of the table, looking down along both sides. Apparently seated nearest him were the most senior officers, the lines of captains running into the distance in decreasing seniority until the most junior ship commanders waited at the end. Only one other person was physically present, Captain Desjani, who seemed as unenthusiastic about the meeting as Geary himself, though Geary hoped he was doing a better job of hiding it.

  The absence of Captain Numos and Captain Faresa, both normally “seated” close by him and both serious thorns in his side, didn’t offer much comfort. The former commanding officers of Orion and Majestic were both under arrest but a constant source of disruption even now. Geary only had to look down the table to see eyes that were either wary or hiding whatever emotions they might hold. Fortunately, there were also many officers who clearly displayed near-worshipful (though discomforting) belief in Black Jack Geary as well as those who believed less in the legend of Black Jack and more in the man who had led the fleet this far. He couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before he screwed up so badly that their growing faith would be crushed by the reality of his own human fallibility.

  “Welcome to Baldur,” Geary began. As he said the words, he realized that had been the title of a popular documentary over a century ago. No one else showed any reaction, though, so he was probably the only person in the fleet who remembered it. There wasn’t anything unusual about that, of course. “I’d planned on just taking us above the plane of the system to the next jump point, but as usual our plans have changed.”

  A ripple of interest ran around the long, long virtual length of the table as Geary called up a display before him. A representation of the glowing yellow star Baldur floated in the center, positioned around it the several significant planets the star system boasted, and scattered through the system were symbols that marked Syndic activity or installations. “We need to pay a visit to the Syndic mining facility on the fourth moon of the second gas giant.” That symbol flared brighter. “The auxiliaries require restocking of certain critical materials, and we’re going to acquire those materials there. Or rather, our Marines are going to acquire them.” Geary nodded toward the image of Colonel Carabali.

  Carabali, like Geary, had ascended to command when her superior was murdered by the Syndics during negotiations. Being a Marine, she hadn’t
let that intimidate her in the least while dealing with the fleet officers around her. Now she spoke in the dry, precise cadence of a briefing officer. “There’s concern that the Syndics could either sabotage the stockpiles we need or contaminate them,” she began.

  “Why?” someone interrupted.

  Geary fixed his eyes on the speaker. Commander Yin, acting commanding officer of the Orion and doubtless a protégée of Captain Numos. Yin appeared slightly nervous but still belligerent, her attitude perhaps an unconscious imitation of Numos’s own. “If you’ll let Colonel Carabali finish presenting her information, you’ll hear the answer to that,” Geary stated, realizing his voice sounded harsher than he had intended.

  Carabali glanced around, then continued speaking. “The materials in question are trace elements. The fleet has been able to confirm the existence of the stockpiles we need at that mining facility by analyzing the message traffic in this system and assessing what we can see of the mining facility from this distance. Since the relatively small size of the stockpiles makes sabotage or contamination easy, Captain Geary asked me to plan a raid designed to surprise anyone occupying or possibly defending the mining facility.”

  Carabali paused, and Captain Tulev of the battle cruiser Leviathan gave her a questioning but not hostile look. “Surprise? How will we achieve surprise?”

  Geary answered. “We need to misdirect the Syndics, mislead them as to our intentions. They’ll see us coming, but we have to convince them that we’re swinging by purely to destroy the facility, not to take anything from it.” He tapped controls, and a series of arcs appeared in the representation of Baldur Star System, curving from point to point among planets and asteroids. “We’re going to start at the outer edges of Baldur and work our way inward, passing close to Syndic facilities on the way and destroying them with hell-lance fire at close range.”

  This time Captain Casia of the battleship Conqueror spoke up, frowning as he did so. “That doesn’t make sense. Not even the Syndics would believe that we’d take the time to engage fixed targets at close range when we could just launch kinetic rounds at them from a distance.”

  Geary checked to confirm his suspicions, that Conqueror was part of the Third Battleship Division, which included both Orion and Majestic. Captain Casia hadn’t stood out in earlier meetings, perhaps overshadowed by the presence of Numos or Faresa. He couldn’t recall any grounds to assume Casia was like those two others, so Geary answered without assuming any antagonism. “It’s not unreasonable that our fleet would be low on kinetic projectiles. As a matter of fact, we are low on them because of all the rounds we launched at Sancere. There’s also no significant threat to us in this star system. Under those circumstances, it makes perfect sense to conserve kinetic rounds and employ hell-lance fire. The Syndics will believe we’re even lower on kinetic rounds than we actually are, which might benefit us in the future in other ways.”

  Casia chewed his lip, a scowl just barely visible. The image of Captain Duellos of the battle cruiser Courageous caught Geary’s eye and made a dismissive glance at Casia in a wordless assessment of the other officer. After a long moment that might have been attributable to nothing more than the distance separating Dauntless and Conqueror, Casia shook his head. “We’re all low on kinetic rounds? What have the auxiliaries been doing?”

  “Manufacturing fuel cells, Captain Casia,” Duellos advised in a drawl that brought a flush to Casia’s face. “I assume you prefer to be able to maneuver your ship, or do you want to drift through space with a full inventory of kinetic rounds on hand?”

  Geary could easily judge Casia’s status in the fleet by the reactions of the other officers. Many grinned at Duellos’s put-down, but others seemed more unhappy with Duellos than with Casia. Odd, since Geary couldn’t recall the man causing him any trouble before this. Why had the malcontents chosen him to rally around?

  Geary thumped the table with his fist to forestall any other comments. “Thank you, Captain Duellos. Do you have any further questions, Captain Casia?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” Casia stood to emphasize his words. “I understand we need these materials because the auxiliaries didn’t stock up properly at Sancere. The entire fleet has been hazarded, but nothing has been done to those responsible.”

  He paused, while Geary glanced toward Captain Tyrosian and saw her stiffen. “Is that an observation or a question?” Geary asked Casia.

  “It’s…both.”

  “Then I will assure you,” Geary stated evenly, “that I have discussed the matter with Captain Tyrosian, and she retains my confidence as commander of the auxiliaries division.”

  “What did you say to her?” Casia demanded.

  Geary couldn’t stop a frown; in fact, he let it stay in place as he gazed back at Casia. He recognized what was happening, the sort of debate that would have been unthinkable in the fleet he had known, not simply arguing courses of action but actively challenging the fleet commander and trying to manipulate the level of support the commander could count on. Any moment now Casia would probably call for a vote insisting that Geary remove Tyrosian from her job.

  And that wasn’t going to happen while he was in command. “Captain Casia,” Geary said in his coldest voice, “I am not in the habit of discussing in public my private conversations with other officers. What I said to Captain Tyrosian is between her and me, just as anything I say to you in private will remain between us.”

  “We deserve to know that you’ll take effective action—” Casia began.

  “Are you challenging my authority to command this fleet, Captain Casia?” Geary demanded in a voice that rang through the room.

  Silence reigned for a moment, then Captain Tulev spoke as if to himself, though his voice carried. “The Syndics have learned at Kaliban, at Sancere, and at Ilion that Captain Geary is a very effective commander.”

  Commander Yin’s voice wavered slightly as she jumped back into the conversation. “The traditions of the fleet call for open debate and consensus among the captains. What’s wrong with wanting to continue that tradition? Why wouldn’t Captain Geary be in favor of maintaining the traditions that have kept this fleet fighting?”

  Captain Desjani had kept herself quiet up until now but finally erupted at the direct attack on Geary. “Captain Geary believes in our traditions! He’s reminded us of traditions we’d forgotten!”

  “Captain Geary established those traditions a century ago!” another voice insisted. To Geary’s surprise, it was Commander Gaes of the Lorica. “He fights! And more importantly, he knows how to fight! He hasn’t sent this fleet into any Syndic traps!”

  The clear reference to the disaster at Vidha brought a momentary stop to the debate. Both Casia and Yin were giving Commander Gaes hard looks, but she didn’t seem to care. After choosing to follow Captain Falco in a rebellious force of Alliance fleet ships and then watching that force get cut to ribbons at Vidha, Gaes probably had little tolerance for anyone who might be advocating the sort of challenge to Geary’s command that had led to that disaster.

  Casia finally shook his head. “We’re in a difficult position. The fleet can’t afford to be at the mercy of those who’ve positioned themselves as favorites of the fleet commander, regardless of competence.”

  “That’s enough.” Geary saw that everyone had turned to stare at him and realized that must have been his voice speaking in those tones. He changed his tone with an effort, trying to sound more like a commander and less like an enraged deity. To sound less like Black Jack. “Captain Casia, this fleet has too much experience with officers incapable of carrying out their responsibilities. I won’t tolerate anyone like that in a command position. Is that clear?” Casia flushed but remained silent. “Now, do you intend charging any officer present here with being incompetent to command their ships?” He was bullying the man, forcing him to publicly back down. Geary knew it. He shouldn’t use his authority this way. He had to lead these officers, not drive them before him. But right now he was sick and tired of polit
ics and of senior officers who seemed to enjoy politics even when it threatened the survival of the fleet. “Do you?” Geary pressed.

  Casia’s voice sounded strangled as he answered. “No.”

  “I’m the fleet commander and your superior officer, Captain Casia.”

  “No…sir.”

  “Thank you.” Just relieve him for cause. Right now. Lock up Casia along with Numos and Faresa and Captain Kerestes and crazy Captain Falco. Toss in Commander Yin as well. Why do I need to keep tolerating these idiots? This fleet will be far safer if they aren’t around to interfere with me. If they’d stop challenging—

  Geary took a long, slow breath. Damn. I’m losing it. Where would that road end if I started down it? How many officers would I sack, making sure that only those loyal to me were in command? And once I’d sacked enough, the rest wouldn’t dare speak up to me, tell me when I was mistaken or wrong. And this fleet would die, because my ancestors know how often I make mistakes, how often I’m wrong. “Colonel Carabali. Please continue.”

  The Marine colonel nodded as if nothing untoward had happened and continued her briefing. Nothing fancy or elaborate. The fleet would cruise past several other Syndic installations on its way in-system, blowing each apart in turn, using hell-lance charged-particle cannon. But as the fleet got close to the fourth moon of the second gas giant, it would begin braking, and shuttles would launch, carrying a Marine strike force. With good timing of the maneuver, the shuttles would have less than half an hour of flight time before the Marines set down. “Even if the Syndics somehow figure out exactly why the Alliance fleet wants to occupy this facility, that hopefully won’t leave enough time for them to organize an effective defense or damage the stockpiles we need,” Carabali concluded.

  “We’ll use the scout battleship division for close support in case the Marines need it,” Geary added. “Exemplar and Braveheart have proven their skills in that work.” They were also the only two surviving scout battleships, but nobody brought that up.