by Britt Ringel
Not at all.
In her heart, she knew the simple truth. She failed. Her actions had made fifty-three deaths across the fleet an empty sacrifice. Her orders and her orders alone had rendered their passings to barely more than a footnote in history. She selfishly threw away those lives for personal reasons that she had trouble explaining even to herself. She recalled thinking months ago of Seshafi and Sade as insignificant, meaningless star systems. She remembered her disgust at the realization that her Brevic comrades-in-arms were dying in defense of a star system she barely knew and cared even less about. That sense of her own superiority was a punch in the gut now. I traded fifty-three lives for the mere chance I could keep the one most important to me. Who have I become?
She brought her hand up reflexively to her face and it came away damp. Oh great, she thought, annoyed with herself. I’m already crying and the dressing-down hasn’t even started. She dabbed delicately at her eyes with the tissue she had thought she would need by the time the meeting had concluded. When her eyes were dry, she took several deep breaths to steel herself. It’s time I come clean. I’ve been terrified of saying something to him for nearly six months, but now, with all that’s happened, I’m more scared if I don’t. She stepped forward and entered the threshold of the door sensors.
Inside, Garrett Heskan’s planet-side secretary looked up and pointed toward the fleet commander’s door. “They’re waiting for you,” she told Vernay emotionlessly.
They’re waiting for me? Panic shot through Vernay as her mind reeled. Who else is in there? She knocked once at the door.
“Enter,” came the familiar voice.
Vernay opened the door and marched inside. She kept her eyes straight but used her peripheral vision to identify the other people in the room. Squaring her corners on her way to one meter in front of Heskan’s large desk, she counted two men seated off to the side: Captain Nguyen and Archduke Covington. She fired off a Seshafian salute and stated, “Commander Stacy Vernay reports as ordered, sir.”
Heskan returned the salute and said, “Be at ease, Commander. Please, sit.”
Vernay gratefully accepted the comfortable chair near the side of the desk. She resisted the urge to fidget.
“Stacy, I’ve called you here today because we have to discuss what happened in Sade. I’m sorry for giving you so little notice and I realize that your place is overseeing repairs to Ajax, but I must understand what happened before I step in front of the cameras.”
Vernay was well aware of the speculation running rampant among the journalists over the last forty-eight hours. Everything from cowardice in the face of the enemy to diagnoses of psychological disorders circulated the gossip videos. The ugliest rumors, of course, came from the unidentified sources of Chase Fuller.
“I understand, sir.”
“I’ve reviewed the action a dozen times and I can play it here if it would help.” Heskan fumbled for his datapad and switched the wall screen from window mode to display the tactical plot from the C-3 ship’s logs.
Vernay shook her head dejectedly. “It won’t help, sir.”
Heskan stared intently at her. “Then what happened, Stacy?”
She wanted to crawl away. Vernay felt her eyes glance sideways at the two Seshafians in the room before she started timidly shrugging her shoulders.
“Did you sense a trap?” Heskan offered.
It was a trap, she admitted to herself. One of my own design. “No, sir.”
Greater confusion took hold of Heskan. “Stacy, what is it? Speak! I’ve only seen you this mute once before.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. It felt like a conflagration. She opened her mouth but then closed it. It’s too humiliating.
“Stacy, dammit, we deserve some answers.”
The censure jolted her into action. “You’re right, sir. I saw no trap. I could have decimated the Saden rearguard but I ordered my section up to support your run. I hoped we could intervene against the Saden main and pull its attention to my section. I was wrong. It was a poor tactical decision that resulted in the nullification of the bulk of your forces.”
From Vernay’s right, the elder Covington leaned forward from the couch and asked without a trace of accusation, “Why did you order the maneuver, Commander?”
Vernay pawed at the fire in her cheeks to buy time. Finally, she looked Covington in the eye and admitted, “Because our vanguard was going to be crushed, sir. I couldn’t just sit and watch the sailors I’ve served with die for nothing.”
Nguyen’s stern voice admonished, “There was a plan, Commander, and instead of following it, you disobeyed your orders and for what gain? We took heavy damage and significant casualties only for you to fail to do your job.”
Covington looked askew toward Nguyen. For a moment, it looked as if he would comment but then thought better of it and leaned back into the couch. The next voice was Heskan’s. “Commander, you need to put your emotions on hold when commanding a ship. In war, sacrifices must be made. We willingly make those sacrifices because we know the person next to us will honor them by completing the mission. You know this, Commander; better than most.” Heskan paused briefly to clear his throat. His eyes glazed slightly. “Think back to Tomahawk. Wade Patrick Grant and his entire crew died upholding that honored tradition. In return, we came home and by doing so, part of Tomahawk came home with us.”
Vernay felt so small.
“Stephan Christova sacrificed himself and his ship to perform his mission so we could return home.” Heskan’s voice grew cold. “Avenger followed her orders and detached from the task group because that was what she had to do in order to complete the mission. Do you think Captain Ramirez wanted to leave us?”
Vernay reflexively closed her eyes before forcing them open to look directly into the eyes of her accuser… and her undoing on the battlefield. He’s right. What makes me so damned special that allows me to ignore the greater good for my own, selfish motives?
Heskan continued mercilessly. “Ships will be destroyed, Commander. People will die. We cannot stop that, Stacy. The best we can do is honor them by accomplishing the mission.”
Her voice was rough when she finally could speak. “I ordered Tyler to stay on his GP on Anelace. I ordered Denise to her death on Elathra…”
“Neither of them died, Stacy, and you absolutely did the right thing. You needed to give that order to Gables or we all would have perished.”
“That’s the only reason I gave it, sir. I had to… to protect… Elathra.”
Heskan smiled faintly for the first time. “And we’re all grateful you did.” His voice warmed. “Look. You’re a fantastic officer and one hell of a leader. Sometimes, you’re so strong that I forget you’re just as human as the rest of us. What’s done is done and all you can do is learn from your mistake. I’m sure you will. We’re finished here, Commander. I need to speak with these gentlemen now but I’ll send you a message shortly.”
Vernay rose from her chair and centered herself in front of Heskan’s desk. She came to attention and saluted. “Will that be all, sir?”
Heskan returned the salute and said, “That will be all.”
* * *
After the young commander had left, Nguyen cleared his throat. “I know you say she’s your best officer, Garrett, but can we trust her not to blow her orders again?”
“Absolutely. She has my complete confidence,” Heskan answered emphatically.
Nguyen remained unconvinced. “How can you be so sure? Is it possible that you’ve misjudged her abilities? War is a brutal business and it has a way of bringing out a person’s true character.”
Heskan snorted lightly. “Yes it does, Yon. That’s why I know I haven’t misjudged Stacy Vernay. Corporate conflict is certainly swift and decisive but it can’t hold a candle to the brutality of what we saw during the Brevic-Hollaran war.” After returning from Sade, Archduke Covington had allowed Yon Nguyen into the inner circle who knew of Heskan’s origins. The CEO had deemed Nguyen’s allegiance to
Seshafi unquestionable and having the man aware of the situation meant having another person helping to manage it. Nguyen had accepted the news without comment or emotion and the impassive reaction left Heskan concerned.
Nguyen cocked his head skeptically to one side. “Come now, Garrett. War is war. There may not be media footage of your skirmishes but surely you’re not suggesting that conflict between your Republic and the Commonwealth is ‘more war’ than our corporate battles.”
“I’m not trying to denigrate your warfare, Yon,” Heskan pacified. “We lost fifty-three sailors this week.”
Nguyen’s nod was somewhere between confirmation of Heskan’s statement and triumph in winning his point.
“However,” Heskan continued, “I am saying that if the battle we fought three days ago had taken place in Brevic space, none of us would have returned home. None. There’s no quarter, Yon. Defeat is total.”
Nguyen cast his gaze downward and muttered in disgust, “Bloodthirsty ‘Vics.”
The comment raised Heskan’s ire. “Not just ‘Vics, Yon. Hollarans fight the same way. The Republic may have a bad reputation around here—”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Nguyen interjected.
“—but both sides do it.”
“Hardly an excuse.”
Covington winced slightly at the exchange and shifted positions on the couch. He cleared his voice in a gentle request for peace. “It’s all behind you now, Garrett.” The patrician smiled in a grandfatherly way. “I, for one, am most grateful that you and your people possess a warrior’s heritage.” Noticing Nguyen’s frustrated expression at his words, Covington explained, “Yon, the major powers fight the way they fight because they can afford it, and because they can afford it, they must.” He shifted again awkwardly with a frail hand bracing the small of his back. “I cannot imagine the viciousness of entering a fight knowing the only way to survive is through the complete annihilation of your enemy.” The archduke wetted dry lips and then swallowed. After brief consideration, he gave Heskan a knowing look. “Your people bonded intensely during those times, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” Heskan replied cautiously, sensing a deeper meaning from Covington.
Covington grunted. “And Commander Vernay, when did she first serve with you?”
“She was a lieutenant, junior grade, a weapons officer.”
“Well, she certainly developed a strong bond during those times, your entire crew has.” Covington looked downward in reflection. He took several more moments before nodding toward Nguyen. “I think what us Seshafians must realize is that those bonds are nothing to be feared. Each of us must take great strides in welcoming Garrett’s people into our navy and our world. The feelings… the loyalty they have toward each other will never be broken so we, as their role models, must ensure that Garrett’s people understand that not only are they a part of their tight-knit group but they are also a part of a much larger society.” Covington redirected his gaze at Heskan and spoke with a wisdom of the ages. “Eventually, you may have other insight about Vernay’s motivations to protect you but we must, at the minimum, ensure that the choices of the former Brevics you’ve placed in command are for the good of the entire navy and not just your contingent.” He dipped his narrow shoulders. “It pains me to say that, Garrett, but we must acknowledge this truth.”
Heskan felt stripped by the naked honesty. “You pull no punches, Archduke, but you are undeniably correct.”
“Oh,” Covington permitted a wry smile to form on his lips, “I’ve pulled a few, Garrett.” He chuckled lightly. “Let us now turn toward the matter of the pending legal action in Nessus. As I suspected, all three of the line ship section commanders and Elathra’s entire command crew will be asked to testify.”
“What testimony can we possibly contribute to The Courts on Cooke’s death?” Nguyen asked indignantly.
“None,” Covington answered plainly. “However, since Admiral Wallace is being forced to testify regarding some of the statements he made during the pre-battle negotiations, the Saden advocates have placed those section commanders and Garrett’s command crew as potential witnesses.” He looked reassuringly over to Heskan and said, “Don’t worry, Garrett. I suspect this is just to keep our command structure from training with the fleet during the time Wallace is away from his.”
“What does testifying entail, Archduke?” a wide-eyed Heskan asked.
“Don’t worry, my boy. Just tell your people to tell the truth and they’ll be fine.”
Heskan’s heart skipped a beat. “What if they ask where we come from?”
The very serious question was batted away easily by Covington. “Privateer Confidentiality. You were a privateer during all that time so you’re protected by the confidentiality clauses you signed when Cooke wrote up your contract. The Courts will not ask you to break your contract, Garrett. They take such matters very seriously.”
Heskan exhaled audibly as Covington added, “Decide how you want to transport to Nessus. We can arrange a private liner if you wish or you can take something else.”
“I’d like a brig,” Heskan replied without hesitation.
“A warship?” Nguyen asked skeptically.
“After our run from the Republic in Hussy, I never want to travel far in an unarmed ship again, Yon.”
Covington’s brow furrowed slightly as he considered the request. “That’s a bit unconventional, Garrett. A warship to Nessus… but I suppose it is very privateer.” His shoulders began to shake up and down in fits of subdued laughter. “I expect we can accommodate that request. Of course, my son will never forgive me if I don’t suggest travelling aboard Hawk.”
“His ship would be my first choice,” Heskan agreed.
“Then the matter is settled,” Covington acknowledged. “I’ll have one of my barristers assist you and your people during the trip. After all, there’s no harm showing up prepared, is there?”
Covington’s fingers deftly played over his datapad in a manner that belied the man’s great age. “There.” He placed the datapad to the side. “And now, the final matter. Garrett, how would you characterize the level of hostility afforded Dioscuri?”
The question surprised Heskan. For the last forty-eight hours, Heskan replayed the combat run against his vanguard. Every maneuver by the Saden ship sections seemed designed to isolate Heskan’s van. Even placing the Saden rear into a vulnerable position to lure away his main could be construed as deliberate. Over the last two days, he wandered back and forth over the fine line dividing epiphany and paranoia to arrive at the ultimate deduction that Wallace played him like a fiddle. But to have outmaneuvered him in such manner was predicated on Wallace knowing that Heskan himself was commanding Dioscuri, and that revelation opened the door to a much darker path than Heskan wanted to tread. He was reluctant to voice his suspicions that another traitor was embedded in the Seshafian navy, fearing such an accusation would further isolate him from the people he was supposed to lead. To hear Covington’s question reignited the flames of conspiracy.
“Archduke, I think Dio was singled out.”
“Quite harshly, I would say.” Covington’s face twisted in distaste. “This admittance brings me great displeasure. I believe we have a very serious problem inside our navy. We’ve so strongly united with Sade in the past that I fear many of our mid-level officers remember too fondly a time when IaCom was our ally. Many of our sailors still worship Wallace.”
“What can we do about it?” Nguyen asked. “We’ve worked closely with the Saden navy for so long… how will we sever such entrenched ties?”
Covington frowned. “We shan’t.”
“But we can,” Heskan suggested, “take steps to protect ourselves.”
Covington moved his cane in Heskan’s direction. “Exactly.” The man’s grey eyes burned intensely. “And, we can make every effort to exploit such duplicity.”
* * *
The portal opened with a faint hum and Oliver Wallace marched victoriously through Co
lby Persin’s office. The Secure Solutions representative looked up at the surprise intrusion and began to speak. “Vis—”
“Got him!” Wallace announced triumphantly. He stopped just short of the smaller man’s desk and slammed down twin folders, spilling their contents.
Persin’s eyes followed the splash of pages, coming to a news blurb entitled, “Brevic Navy Ships Return Victorious.” He quickly scanned the article mumbling as he went. “…Commander Garrett Heskan… hero of the Republic…” Finally, Persin looked up at the admiral standing over him. “Are you sure this is him?”
“We may not have access to ‘Vic military personnel files like we do with the Commonwealth but it all fits, Colby.” Wallace pointed at the two folders on Persin’s desk. “These are the same man.”
Persin scratched his head. “How did he end up in Secure Solutions?”
The Red Admiral’s face darkened. “That’s not my concern. I care not about how this man inserted himself into my affairs but only that he thwarted my grand strategy and cost me immeasurable standing. He will pay the ultimate price for daring to meddle with my plans and I no longer care how.” Wallace turned away from the desk and stared at a wall screen showing a detailed status of Secure Solutions’ ships. Most had returned to Acca Larentia inside the Commonwealth for replenishment and repair. Within months, they would be returning to Sade to take part in Wallace’s operation against Seshafi. He thought bitterly of the Seshafian fleet commander. “I nearly had him last week but he slipped the noose. Shortly, he will sail to Nessus to testify.” Wallace turned to look at Persin once again. “I don’t want that man to return. Do you understand me?”
Persin’s eyes widened at the implication. “B-but, Viscount,” the man stuttered. “We can’t attack him in Federation space without a letter of marque from The Courts. It’d be a major violation of both Federation and corporate law. We… we’d lose our privateer’s license!”
