Dark Running (Fourth Fleet Irregulars Book 4)

by S J MacDonald

  At the thought of anything like that happening again, indeed, Alex felt a gut-twisting lurch. The image of a Fleet-issue cup full of cold tea, a greasy scum formed on the surface, came back to his mind. It was a memory that would forever be associated with a sense of helpless, numb humiliation. He could handle people trying to kill him in combat, no problem. Screaming hordes of activists, fine. But being so savagely attacked by one of his own, by an officer he should have been able to rely on for help and support, had been devastating. He had learned the hard way that internal politics within the Fleet were not merely a matter of tension between traditionalist and modernising factions, it could get dirty.

  It had been a huge relief to him on their return to Novamas to find that Terrible Tennet was there, newly promoted to admiral and fired out to the system as a trouble shooter. She was, herself, rigidly Old School, but was held in the highest esteem even by the radical fraternity. It had been good to work with an officer Alex knew he could trust. It had been comforting, too, to remind himself that it was Terrible who represented the vast majority of Fleet officers – professional, honourable, fully worthy of respect – and Vickers who’d been the shocking, isolated exception. Now, as he took in what Jonas Sartin was saying, it began to dawn on him that Terrible had gone to some trouble to protect him. She was absolutely right, of course – the presence of an Internal Affairs officer of a seniority to handle incidents where Alex or his officers were being accused of misconduct would be very helpful. And, given his credentials as a very well-known Old School officer, Jonas Sartin would have high credibility across the Fleet.

  Alex, having thought about that, smiled. Terrible Tennet had his back. That was a very good feeling.

  ‘I see,’ he said. ‘Thank you – I hope I never need to call on your services in that regard, but it is good to know that I have that protection.’

  ‘Please, don’t thank me, sir.’ Jonas said. ‘I’m not doing anything more than my job as an Internal Affairs officer. Since we are talking on a time-out basis here, I will tell you that I was deeply shocked by what happened at Novamas – the failure to salute alone...’ he shook his head. ‘I’ve never known anything like it,’ he said, and Alex could hear the consternation in his voice, even now. ‘For a port admiral to actually order the homeworld squadron not to respond to the salute of an incoming ship.’ He put down his fork, as if the enormity of it was too much to talk about and eat at the same time. ‘I know, things got a lot worse than that, sir, and his conduct towards you was dreadful, but for me, the failure to salute, that was an insult to the entire Fleet.’

  That was Old School talking – yes, okay, the Port Admiral had disobeyed the First Lord’s orders and had arrested a skipper on obviously malicious charges, but the important thing was that he’d ordered the homeworld squadron not to return the Fourth’s salute. Alex didn’t find that offensive, just grinned a bit and nodded.

  ‘It was a bit of a stunner,’ he recalled. ‘One of the few occasions I’ve had when the entire ship’s company was looking at me and I really didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘I would never have guessed that,’ Jonas said, with an interested look, and as Alex raised an enquiring eyebrow, ‘I reviewed the footage – all the recording presented in evidence at the enquiry. You seemed very calm about it, sir, if I may say so.’

  ‘Yes, well, being Novaterran does have its advantages,’ Alex observed, and shifted into his poker face, professional, wholly unreadable. ‘It is, regrettably, a major issue in public relations, as I can not overcome formal conduct inhibitions in public situations, but it does stand me in good stead when I need to keep situations calm.’

  Even the way he spoke changed, with his impassive expression and formal body language, straight backed, square shouldered. Then he relaxed again, giving an amused look and reverting to his conversational tone.

  ‘At any rate, I can now say, sincerely, that I am very glad to have you aboard, Mr Sartin.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Jonas responded, but a thought had dawned on him. ‘Sir, can I ask – were the other officers also of the opinion that I was here on covert assignment for Admiral Jennar?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Alex confirmed. ‘We all thought that. And the others still do. Ms Atwood only came to me with this because she felt I needed to know we’d read that situation wrongly. She isn’t in the habit of blabbing her observations around the ship, which is just as well given how accurately she can read people.’

  ‘Oh.’ Jonas considered this. ‘Well, I can only say that I’m amazed, in that case, sir,’ he confessed, ‘if that’s really what they’ve all been thinking, how polite and welcoming everyone has been.’ He gave Alex a doubtful look. ‘Perhaps you’ve given orders to that effect, sir?’

  ‘No, no, not at all,’ Alex was quite taken aback even by the suggestion. ‘I wouldn’t dream of undermining your position – what kind of officer, after all, would need the skipper to tell the crew to be polite to them?’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Jonas, drily. ‘So – is it something they’re doing, then, out of concern that I might make negative reports to Internal Affairs?’

  ‘Concern?’ Alex gave a little grin at that. ‘No. Though I daresay there’s some element of wanting to do credit to the ship, as there would be in any inspection, they’re certainly not concerned about Lord Admiral Jennar’s opinion. Perhaps I should clarify that I have no issue, as such, with Admiral Jennar or any other Fleet authority inspecting us. I have, in fact, told Admiral Harangay that I would be willing to have an IA team aboard the ship, if that would satisfy Admiral Jennar. Admiral Harangay, however, feels it would be too disruptive to our operations, having inspectors questioning us constantly, and since everything that happens aboard ship is a matter of full record anyway, unnecessary. There was, I admit, some feeling that it was unethical of Admiral Jennar to try to sneak an inspector in on us covertly, but we wouldn’t take that out on you. People have been welcoming because that’s a ‘spirit of the ship’ ethos, that we welcome all new shipmates regardless of their background, take people as we find them. Our crew is pretty sharp at weighing up new officers, as I dare say you’ve noticed, and it didn’t take them long to recognise that you’re a good, competent officer, and doing things our way, too, however bizarre that must often seem to you.’

  Jonas didn’t deny that he found many aspects of life on the Heron bizarre.

  ‘I am trying,’ he said, with a slightly wry note. ‘But it is a little difficult, I must admit, to feel that I can’t ask questions about your policies, or custom and practice, as I feel that any such questions would be regarded as criticism.’

  ‘Well, that’s not good, obviously, you should feel free to ask whatever questions you want, and should ask questions, too, as part of shaking down as one of our officers,’ Alex said. ‘But that is easily resolved – as soon as it is known that you were recommended by Terrible, there’ll be no question of anyone seeing questions from you as being derogatory.’

  Jonas looked perturbed.

  ‘I, uh, would prefer if it was not announced to the crew that my assignment here was at Terrible’s suggestion, sir. There is nothing at all untoward in that, of course, but the situation is somewhat sensitive. I would prefer not to discuss Lord Admiral Jennar – I would not be comfortable discussing a superior officer like that, even in private – but you are aware, I’m sure, of tensions within the Admiralty.’

  Alex nodded. These days, he made sure he was informed about political wrangling within Admiralty HQ, recognising that he and the Fourth were often the focus of that debate. There was currently a schism forming within the Old School faction, effectively dividing the Fleet into three camps. For the progressives, Alex was their champion, dragging the Fleet into modernising however much the old guard might kick and scream. For the hard core Old School, Alex was anathema, a disgrace to the service, everything he did an outrage to them.

  In the middle ground, though, were the majority of the Fleet, vaguely pulled one way or the other as arguments p
assed back and forth. These were finding a leader, themselves, in Terrible Tennet, as she moved from taskforce command into admiralty circles. Terrible made no secret of the fact that she disapproved of many of the Fourth’s more radical policies. At the same time, she stood staunchly on the principle that they deserved the same respect and support as any regular Fleet ship, and admiration, too, for their operational achievements. Many of the Fleet’s senior officers were showing their support for her, in all the usual subtle ways that Fleet officers showed their political allegiances.

  Lord Admiral Jennar was losing support, not just because people were finding him too hard line against the Fourth, but with an increasing realisation that he was no great credit to the Fleet, himself. There was no evidence that he was behind the malicious allegation that had got Alex arrested, of course, any more than there was proof that he’d fired up the media against them three years before. As it became known, though, that Lord Admiral Jennar’s adjutant had met with Professor Patello, many who’d supported him till then were backing off, not wanting to be associated with such dodgy goings-on. The fact that Jonas Sartin had accepted this posting at Admiral Tennet’s request signalled in itself that he had switched allegiance. Lord Admiral Jennar would be spitting nails over that. And Lord Admiral Jennar, as Alex had good cause to know, made a powerful and vindictive enemy.

  ‘Understood,’ Alex said. ‘But I’m sorry, I have to insist, Mr Sartin. I know it is politically sensitive, and I understand too that it may go against the grain with you to do anything that might be perceived as courting popularity with the crew. But the fact is, as you have commented yourself, there are tensions, here, in that you feel you can’t ask the kind of questions that you should be asking. It isn’t fair to you, or to us, to carry on with everyone believing you’re a covert inspector.’

  Jonas nodded, accepting the skipper’s decision.

  ‘So – do you want me to make an announcement about it, sir?’ he queried.

  ‘No need for that.’ Alex smiled. ‘That’s not how we do things, here – it will be apparent to everyone that my own attitude towards you has changed. Someone will ask why and I’ll tell them. You should expect a rather effusive response – apologies, handshakes, a very much warmer welcome – but it’ll soon settle down. And with that tension released, you can ask as many questions as you like. And do, do, please raise any issues that concern you, too. You are part of my command team, and if you think that something we’re doing is wrong or that we could be doing it better, I expect you to say so.’ He speared the last piece of salad with his fork, and gestured invitingly. ‘So – if you have questions, or issues to raise, now would be a good time to start.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ Jonas picked up his fork again, though he didn’t resume eating, giving Alex’s offer due consideration. ‘No issues, sir.’ He said. ‘And perhaps too many questions to know where to start. I am finding it fascinating, being here, though. Seeing for myself how you approach operations, being part of that process, is amazing in itself. I still can’t quite believe we’re doing this, I mean, actually on our way to Samart. That’s so far beyond anything I ever imagined that I’d be part of, it doesn’t seem quite real. And yet to you it seems – I don’t want to say routine, but normal.’

  Alex grinned. ‘Every time I open mission orders,’ he confided, ‘I have to bend my brain round a whole new ‘normal’. I thought when I was asked to go out to Sixships and blow up a moonbase that that was out there as orders could get. Then I got orders to take on an alien aristocrat as an honorary officer. I remember saying at the time that it just could not get any more out there than that. That, of course, was before I got orders to go and make first contact with Gide. I knew this was going to be a big one, obviously – the ‘supply ship for a full extent patrol’ and the advisory to tell families that we might be out of contact for some months was something of a clue – but I can honestly say that the possibility of us being sent to Samart never even crossed my mind. I had to read the orders three times before I could believe it.’

  Jonas did something of a double-take.

  ‘You mean – that really was the first you knew about it?’ He asked. ‘You were just thrown in totally unprepared?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Alex confirmed, with some amusement. ‘That is in the nature of sealed orders. It isn’t a problem operationally – all the resources we’ll need are in place, and there’s plenty of time to work up a plan. If I sound blasé about it, believe me, I’m not. I know what’s at stake, obviously, how important the decisions I’ll be making are, and how the odds are stacked against us. But that is normal for us. We’re the wild card, after all, the chance it and see. And every possible effort is being made, here, to minimise risks, so that if we fail, there’ll be no serious consequences either to the League or other worlds.’

  ‘But – you really do just get your orders, like these, and have to come up with a plan, yourself?’ Jonas was struggling to comprehend. ‘There’s no ‘captain’s eyes only’ orders you’re working from?’

  ‘No, no – just the orders you’ve seen,’ Alex assured him. ‘And it doesn’t really need much in the way of a plan, this – it’s more about deciding on the best approach. The Novamas mission was actually the most difficult one in terms of figuring out how to achieve it. You are seeing that process, here – you’re part of that process, here. This is just how we do it; reading the files, talking it over, coming up with ideas. I will be expecting you to make any suggestions you can come up with.’

  He saw the stunned look on Jonas Sartin’s face, and the way he swallowed, though he was not eating at the time. ‘Yes,’ Alex said, with a tone of sympathy and some amusement. ‘That’s the moment it hits you, this is for real. And the feeling, too, that if you do make a suggestion and I pick up on it, how much of that will feel like it’s on you. But it is, of course, my decision, entirely my responsibility.’

  Lt Commander Sartin continued to stare at him.

  ‘But...’ he said, ‘forgive me sir, but ... but...’ he paused to draw breath, composing himself, ‘I thought – the second courier... I did assume that there’d been something, with that, from the President, privately.’

  ‘No, nothing like that, you really have seen all the orders and information I was given,’ Alex said. ‘And the first I knew about it was when I opened them two days ago. I did have to read them a couple of times to really take it in, but once I’d got my head around it I treated them like any other mission orders. There was no special message to the President, just confirmation because our orders came directly from him.

  ‘There are different protocols with that, see, you’re expected to send back confirmation that you’ve received the orders, and an assurance that you will carry them out to the best of your ability. Yes, I know, that is inherent in the fact that you sign the orders into the log, but Presidential orders are a whole different world. In this case he also wanted to satisfy himself that I was willing to accept the Presidential Envoy thing – he knows, of course, that I had a bit of a meltdown over it, last time. Dix Harangay had arranged it with him, you see, on my behalf, just in case things went so badly wrong at Novamas that I needed an ace up my sleeve. In fact, it was Buzz who played it, while I was under arrest. The first I knew about it was when everyone was calling me ‘Your Excellency’; disconcerting, to say the least. Finding that I’d been made an Envoy did terrify me. I had to do some deep breathing, there. So the President wanted an assurance, this time, that I was willing to accept. Which I am. It’s a breath-taking, unnerving and embarrassing thing to have on you, and I certainly wouldn’t want it if we were going to League worlds, but I recognise its usefulness in giving me status to negotiate with the Samartians, so fair enough.’

  ‘Embarrassing, sir?’ Jonas was shocked.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Alex said, feelingly. ‘A great honour, yes, of course, but seriously, me? Envoys are drawn from the ranks of the Great and the Good, Mr Sartin. On the rare occasions the President appoints someone from the Fleet, i
t’s invariably a retired Lord Admiral. I am in no way, no way, qualified or equipped to work at that level. It’s different, this time – strategic, just a formality, really, making me an official representative of the League. With the limits of my authority to negotiate clearly drawn, I feel comfortable that I’m working within appropriate bounds for a taskforce commander. I’m confident in my orders, too – I mean, yes, of course, it’s out there, as wild card ops are by definition, but we do have the skills and experience to tackle this. And all we can do, obviously, is to dig in and give it our very best shot.’

  ‘Yes sir – and I’ll do my best, obviously, to fulfil my own role,’ Jonas said. ‘Though it should be said, perhaps, that I don’t have the kind of skills or experience your other officers do. I’ve never taken part in a Van Damek navigation, and though I do have experience in exodiplomacy that has only been in a supportive capacity, assisting with Solaran visits.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Alex reassured him. ‘We’ll be training up for this very thoroughly, as we always do for ops – you’ll be fine. And we are, you know, very appreciative of your financial expertise. Even when I thought you were working for Admiral Jennar, frankly, I considered that to be fair enough if we got the benefit of your skills in sorting out our finances. If you can go even some way to resolving the mess that they’re in, we’ll all be very grateful.’

  Jonas grimaced a little, giving a little shake of his head.

  ‘Since we’re speaking frankly, sir, I doubt that I can do very much,’ he admitted. ‘I knew that your financial affairs were somewhat entangled, of course, but I had no idea of the scale of it until I began looking into it in detail. Quite honestly, sir, I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  ‘I don’t think anybody has,’ Alex agreed, with a rueful note. ‘It just kind of sneaked up on us. I knew that things were getting more and more involved, of course, but we were doing our best to stay on top of it simply by filing all the relevant records with Finance and expecting that they’d sort it out. It wasn’t till we got back to Novamas and I got hit with four hundred and seventy three memos from Finance wanting me to sort things out that I realised what a mess we’re in. It’s like one of those logic games where every step is entirely logical in itself but the culminating effect is utterly absurd.’