“Pavel, I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve gone over your report, and it seems like quite a coincidence that the only survivors we rescued are those who chose to remain loyal, rather than switching sides.”
“I guess virtue was rewarded.”
“None of them are willing to talk about it, though. Not a one.” Tapping a button, she said, “The only one that I could identify as a traitor was Fox. Listed as AWOL, six months ago. Last assigned to Triton Base.”
“That must have been when he was recruited.”
With a sigh, Orlova said, “We both know that isn’t true.”
“Yes, it is,” Salazar said. “Read Harper’s report.”
“Which is classified well above your clearance.”
“You can place me on report for reading it if you want.”
“Read it? You wrote that part.” She shook her head, and said, “I was standing outside the door. You were having quite an argument with her before she came out of the shuttle to talk to me.”
“Look, ma’am…”
“He’s a traitor, and a mutineer, and a deserter.”
“He’s a kid!” Salazar snapped. “Paul Fox is a nineteen-year-old kid who thought he could save the universe. One of the most decorated officers in the Fleet, a war hero, came to him and told him that he needed him, that he could serve his people better if he came out here. What the hell did you expect him to do?”
“Report what happened. Others did.”
Closing his eyes, Salazar said, “I don’t know anything about that. I don’t know what was running through his mind when he made his decision, what Tramiel told him that convinced him to turn traitor.”
“Then you admit it.”
Turning to her, he continued, “All I know is that when I was running through the corridors with beasts right out of someone’s twisted nightmare on my tail, he volunteered to stay with me to head them off, to follow me to what was almost certain death. He didn’t hesitate, not for a second. When I fell, and I ordered him to save himself, he wouldn’t leave me.” Shaking his head, he said, “He got down onto one knee, held his pistol in exactly the way described in the training manual, and fired. Took the damn creature down with one shot.”
Looking back at the floor, he said, “The kid’s a hero. Ma’am, he has a little baby girl back home that he has never seen. He doesn’t deserve to spend the next ten years in a military prison. He’s earned the right to go back home to his family, to be a father to his daughter, to watch her grow up.”
“And the others?”
“I watched Lombardo drag himself along the corridors with one leg a ruin, desperate not to slow us down, and he volunteered to stay behind. I wouldn’t let him. Watched Spaceman Fitzroy break down in tears over Ryder’s body, after he’d done everything he could to save her life. Tarrant, pushing me out of the way of one of those creatures, taking the death blow himself. Just on instinct.” Shaking his head, he said, “As far as I’m concerned, they served whatever sentence they merited down there, a hundred times over.”
“You realize, Pavel, that refusing to give me the names, disobeying a direct order, places you right along with them. I could make a strong case for conspiracy.”
“A commanding officer is responsible for the people under his command,” Salazar quoted. “It’s right there in the regulations, clear as anything else. I was in command, and I stand with my shipmates.” He looked at her, and said, “You can place me under arrest if you want. I understand. I knew it was a risk, going in. But I will not give you those names.”
A thin smile creeping across her face, Orlova said, “I’m not going to arrest you, Pavel. As far as I’m concerned, those orders stand, and I have a feeling that no-one’s going to question anything that happened here too closely.”
“Thanks, ma’am.”
“Let me tell you a little secret. If our roles were reversed, if Sub-Lieutenant Orlova was reporting to Acting Captain Salazar, I’d probably have done exactly the same. At least, I hope I would.”
“Acting Captain Salazar?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Fate worse than death.”
“I thought something very similar, a long time ago. We all end up sitting in the hot seat sooner or later. You’ll have your time in the chair.” Rising to her feet, she said, “Grant said that one day, you’d make a good officer. He was wrong. You’ll make a great officer, and a great commander. You’ve got the instinct for it. Fitzroy, Lombardo, the rest of them. Have you read their reports?”
“No.”
“You should. I’m proud to serve with you, Pavel. You belong on this ship. It’s good to have you back.” She paused, and said, “Everyone who was down on the planet is going to be offered six months medical leave. That includes you. I don’t think anyone with argue, given what they went through. I’ve made it mandatory for Fox.” She smiled, adding, “If I hadn’t, I suspect he’d have tried to come up with an argument to stay.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “No thanks, ma’am. I’d rather stay where I am.”
“What you went through is more than just a normal day on the bridge, Pavel. From what I’ve read, from what the others told me, you saw a sample of Hell down there.”
“Alamo’s going out on a long-duration mission, I’m told, and I’m going with her.”
Nodding, she replied, “I had a feeling you would say that, somehow. With the exception of Fox, none of the others agreed to take it. I think if Lombardo hadn’t been strapped to his bed, he’d have got up and walked out of sickbay there and then. Fitzroy’s down on the lower decks rewiring sensor arrays with one hand in a sling.”
“Alamo needs replacement crew.”
“That it does. And the less said about the circumstances under which they joined the ship, the better. Everything that happened down there is being classified Ultra. You’ll be making a report for the xenobiologists, but it’ll probably be a long time before anyone gets to read it.”
“Fine by me,” he said. “They can lock that dead beast in a vault for the rest of eternity if they want. I hope I never see them again.”
Nodding, Orlova said, “Unless I miss my guess, it will be an extremely long time before anyone comes back to this system. As I said, there are a lot of secrets here that are in everyone’s interests to remain buried.” Rising to her feet, she continued, “If you want my advice, you’ll go and get some rest. You might not take the long-term medical rest leave, but you’re taking the flight home off. Read a book, watch lousy movies, hit the simulators, crash out in your quarters, anything you want. You need some time to process what you’ve been through.”
“I’m fine.”
“Consider it an order. If you want a job to do, look after Scott. A lot of people on this ship are going to be wary about her for a while, and she’ll need a friend.”
Nodding, he replied, “I’ll see what I can do.” Rising to his feet, he said, “I could do with some time to take a look at the paperwork, anyway. Always a backlog.”
“Just make sure you take some time for yourself.”
“I will.” He paused, then said, “Thanks, ma’am.”
“I’ve been there, Pavel. I know what you are going through. What Cooper says stands with me, as well. If you ever need to talk to someone, my office door is always open. I mean that.”
“I might take you up on that one day.”
“If you need it.” She gestured down the corridor, and said, “You run along. I’ve got a couple of dozen things to do before breakfast.”
“It’s almost noon, ma’am.”
“A commander’s job is never done.”
Epilogue
Orlova walked up to the shuttle, Quinn racing after her, a datapad clutched in his hand. She turned, taking it from him, and started to scan through it.
“Latest progress reports on the repair work,” he said. “I thought you might want it when
you briefed the Captain. We’re finishing up stress testing the new armor sections now, but everything looks fine. I think we’ve actually improved performance on the power distribution network, but I want to do a shakedown cruise to test it out.”
Raising an eyebrow, Orlova replied, “Not another shakedown cruise.”
“I’ve had the Professor plot a course for us, a nice two-day trip around local space, designed to take us as far away from anything interesting as possible.”
“Three weeks,” Orlova said. “That’s damn good work, Jack.”
Gesturing around at the bustling technicians on the hangar deck, he said, “The crew are anxious to get to our next mission. After Thule, deep space again.”
“That isn’t confirmed, not yet.”
“It might as well be,” Nelyubov said, stepping out of the shuttle. “We’re loaded with enough supplies for a year. They wouldn’t give us that if we were going for a run around the block.”
“True. I’ll know more when I see the Captain.”
“Any idea why he didn’t come straight over?” Quinn asked. “I was surprised that he went to the station, rather than us.”
“Probably wanted to give me time to pack,” Orlova replied.
Frowning, Nelyubov said, “You don’t honestly think…”
“No,” she replied. “I’m joking. I hope. And about that conversation we had…”
“About you being offered the Exec slot?”
“If Captain Marshall offers it, I’m going to accept.”
Nodding, he said, “That’s the best news I’ve heard today.”
“Attention,” a voice said, echoing through the overhead speaker. “Transfer shuttle arriving.”
The trio turned, watching the shuttle rise through the decks, the hatch opening, a familiar figure walking out, his face a frozen mask.
“Dietz?” Orlova said. “Captain Dietz, now. Congratulations.”
“I understand that you have some classified material for transfer to Mars,” he replied, his voice as cold as his demeanor. “I’m here to supervise the shipment, and to collect Lieutenant Harper’s report.”
“You’ll find them both in Storage One,” Nelyubov said. “There’s an Espatier guard to get you from there to the hangar deck, all troops that were on the surface during the operation.”
“And you’ve all signed the secrecy oaths that we sent?”
“Lieutenant Harper has the file.”
“Good.” He nodded, then walked across the deck to the elevator, stepping through the door without another word, even a glance.
Shaking his head, Quinn said, “He was always a little aloof, but that isn’t the man I knew.”
“Old friend?” Nelyubov asked.
“Operations, then Executive Officer up until Jefferson,” Orlova said. “Last I heard, he’d been transferred to Intelligence. I guess we just got confirmation of that.” Turning to Nelyubov, she added, “I presume the troops have been instructed to make sure that he only takes the cargo we want him to take?”
“Don’t worry, Maggie, Harper will still be here when you get back. It isn’t like you to be quite this paranoid.”
“I’ll be happier once we’re out in deep space again,” she replied. “See you later.”
She stepped into the waiting shuttle, the only passenger on the trip across to the station. Normally she’d enjoy the ride, might even have taken the helm herself, but she was lost in thought, staring out of the window at the cold stars beyond, clutching Quinn’s report in her hands, turning the datapad over and over.
“Docking in one minute,” the pilot said.
Stepping over to the airlock, she waited for the familiar clang as the docking ports hit home. The port opened, and an unfamiliar woman wearing the uniform of a Senior Lieutenant was waiting for her, gold braid on her shoulder.
“I didn’t know there was a Commodore on the station,” Orlova said.
“Fleet Captain Marshall asked me to escort you to his office,” she replied. “Come with me.”
Her silent escort led her around the concourse, through the swarming technicians and mechanics working on the station upgrade. A hundred people going about their jobs, only having to worry about the task they had been assigned. For that moment, she envied them. After a short walk, they reached the office level, and the aide gestured at her to enter the nearest room.
“He’s expecting you,” she said. “Go right in.”
“Thanks,” she replied. “Are you transferring to Alamo?”
“Not at this time,” she said, her face briefly cracking to a smile. “Not at this time.”
She walked into the room, where Marshall was sitting behind a desk, Caine standing next to him, a pile of reports in her hand. She looked up at Orlova, flashed her a smile, and walked to the door.
“I’d better leave you two to talk. Catch you later, Danny.”
“Have a seat, Lieutenant,” Marshall said, gesturing her to the far side of the desk. “I’m drowning in paperwork, but I’ve had a chance to go through your reports over the last week or so. They make fascinating reading.”
“I take full responsibility for everything that happened, sir.”
“I’m very pleased to hear it.” Picking up a datapad, he said, “Without authorization from senior command, you took a capital ship to an uncharted system, on the belief that there was an unspecified threat. A ship that you knew was already assigned to critical duties.”
“Not for at least a fortnight, sir, and it was my judgment that the situation was urgent enough that it precluded requesting permission. In the absence of yourself and Captain Cunningham, I was the senior officer present, and I judged it within my remit to take the decision.”
“A decision that resulted in fifty-nine deaths. To say nothing of the wounded.”
“As I said, sir, I accept full responsibility for my actions. The crew followed my orders, and in my judgment, performed above and beyond the call of duty. I recommended commendations for Lieutenant Grant…”
“Posthumously.”
“Sub-Lieutenant Scott, Ensign Cooper, Corporal Hunt, and Sub-Lieutenant Salazar.”
Dropping the report to the desk, he said, “I agree with your assessment of their performance, at least. I’ve countersigned that recommendation.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You were unable to capture any of the mutineers,” he said, glancing down at the desk, “Other than Sub-Lieutenant Scott and Spaceman Third Class Fox, both of whom were working as undercover operatives for Triplanetary Intelligence at the time.”
“Our attempts to extract them ultimately proved successful.”
Rising to his feet, he said, “At the end of the day, Lieutenant, all of this boils down to one simple fact. You took it upon yourself to take a capital ship off station, on a mission that had not been approved, without any real knowledge of the risks you were running. If it were not for some quick thinking, and some damn heroic acts on the part of members of the crew, Alamo would have been lost.”
“I’m aware of that, sir. I'll accept the consequences of my decisions.”
Nodding, he said, “To change the subject for a moment. Captain Cunningham has been permanently assigned as Commandant of the Aerospace Pilot’s School on Titan. He tried like hell to get out of it, but the brass wanted him for the job, and no-one else. I understand there’s talk of him getting command of a battleship at some point.”
“We’ll all be sorry to see him go, sir.”
“That leaves a vacancy. Alamo needs a new Executive Officer.” Turning to look at the stars, he said, “Have you any recommendations for me?”
Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’d be honored, sir.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “Not you, Maggie. After this stunt, I don’t see you as Executive Officer material. Frankly, I don’t see how you can c
ontinue as Operations Officer.”
Her face falling, her world falling apart, she managed to say, “In that case, sir, I would recommend that you appoint Frank Nelyubov to the job. He’ll need promoting to Senior Lieutenant, but he has been an excellent second-in-command to me on more than one occasion, and I am certain that he would be up to the job.”
Nodding, he said, “I’ll take that under advisement. It isn’t really my decision.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. “I haven’t given you your Christmas present yet.”
Taking the plastic box, she cracked it open, and her eyes widened at the silver eagles inside, sitting on a bed of velvet. Lieutenant-Captain’s insignia. She looked up, and Marshall smiled, leaning back on his chair.
“Congratulations, Captain. Technically, that isn’t just from me, but from the Combined Chiefs as well. There’s a note that goes with it.” He slid another datapad across the desk. “As of this date, you are to assume command of the Triplanetary Battlecruiser Alamo. There are mission orders attached.”
She pulled out the insignia, holding them in her hands, and said, “I’m not ready for this.”
“Sure you are,” he said. “If I had any doubts before, you just dispelled them. What you did, the decision you took, that isn’t the mark of an Operations Officer, or an Executive Officer, but a Commander. And a damn good one, at that. You’ve got to know when to take the big risks, and when to fold. You win on both counts.”
“The youngest Lieutenant-Captain in the Fleet,” she said. “I turned thirty last month. Sir, I really don’t think…”
“Five years in the Fleet, but you’ve had more command time than any other officer at Senior Lieutenant rank, and more combat stars than officers with four times your service. Recent events have meant that there is a shortage of qualified ship captains anyway.” He paused, and said, “I was sorry to hear about Ryder. She’ll be missed. I was going to give her Thunderchild.”
He sat down, and continued, “Maggie, we can go back and forth on this for hours, but really, there’s no need. I have complete confidence in your abilities to do this, and there’s no-one else I’d rather hand over to. I’d always planned to turn her over to you at the end of the current tour.”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Malware Blues Page 23
