Relentless

EIGHT

Geary felt a coldness spreading through him. “You’re certain? There’s no doubt?”

“Not if that message is real, sir. It could’ve been faked, of course, though it’d be very hard to construct a false system-tracking record that authentic-looking. But to me it looks like someone on Lorica discovered where that worm came from and had a message containing the information planted in the comm system under a dead man release, so if the cruiser registered as destroyed, the message was sent.”

So Commander Gaes had known who was responsible but had kept that information close for reasons that would never be known now. But she had also made certain that if she was silenced, then the truth would come out.

Desjani’s face was flushed with rage. “This is good enough cause to get Kila into an interrogation room and see what she really knows about it.”

“Yeah,” Geary agreed, thinking of the dead on Lorica and already mentally phrasing his orders to a firing squad for Captain Kila, but as he reached for his controls to order the Marines on Inspire to act, another hand came down on his, and Victoria Rione’s voice spoke intensely.

“Wait. You want to make certain you get her.”

Geary rounded on Rione, wondering when she’d arrived on the bridge and gotten close enough to overhear his and Desjani’s conversation. But before he could speak, Desjani did.

“If we want to be certain we get her, then we do it as fast as possible!” Desjani whispered vehemently.

“That woman tried to destroy my ship!”

“I know what she tried to do!” Rione whispered back angrily. “Listen to me! Kila has done a magnificent job of covering her tracks. Her actions clearly include contingency plans for eliminating evidence and potential witnesses against her, as we saw in Lakota when the shuttle carrying those two officers was destroyed. If we don’t lay a careful trap, she might already have some plan in place for dealing with something like this.”

Geary fought down his own desire for instant vengeance, recognizing the truth in Rione’s advice. “What do you suggest? We can’t let her keep operating.”

“No.” Rione paused in thought. “One hour. That’s enough time to set up our own trap. Call a fleet conference in one hour. Kila will believe that means you still have no idea who’s responsible for what happened to Lorica and almost happened to Dauntless. She’ll be expecting another ineffective appeal for anyone who knows anything to come forward. If we can keep her in ignorance of this evidence until then, we can prepare a trap she won’t be able to avoid.”

Desjani glared at Rione, but Geary could see her thinking. Then Desjani nodded abruptly. “That’s good advice. I’d take it, sir.”

Rione glowered back at Desjani. “Thank you so much for the vote of confidence.”

“Both of you try to remember who the enemy is,” Geary ground out, trying to control his own emotions. The watch-standers on the bridge had already surely noticed something unusual going on between him, their captain, and Rione. He had to divert the gossip about that away from the message he had asked about earlier. “All right, Madam Co-President. Design your trap and tell me what you need. But first give another good long glare at Captain Desjani and stalk off the bridge as if you two had been arguing again.”

“We have been arguing. Even you should have noticed that.” Rione smiled coldly at Geary, then shifted her gaze to Desjani and stepped slightly away. “Pardon me for wanting to be involved in your decisions,”

she stated in a low voice that could still surely be heard by the watch-standers. “I thought I should be aware of what caused the loss of power on this ship.”

Desjani smiled at Rione in a forcibly polite way. “When I find out more, I will ensure you are told. Thank you, Madam Co-President.”

Rione stalked off the bridge, and Geary stood up, not having to fake a renewed gust of frustration. He wanted Kila in a cell right now, he wanted Kila in front of a firing squad right now, but he couldn’t rush into it. Rione had been right about the need to plan an ambush. They had to make certain that Kila didn’t have any more opportunities to destroy potential evidence or kill potential witnesses against her. He spoke clearly for the benefit of the watch-standers who might be listening. “Captain Desjani, let me know the instant anyone finds out anything more about what caused the loss of Lorica and the problem on Dauntless.”

“My systems-security officer is working the issue, sir,” Desjani replied, her voice quivering with suppressed anger. That’s exactly how her crew would expect their captain to feel about an attempt to destroy their ship, though. And if they wondered what else might have her angry, the widely known bad blood between their captain and Victoria Rione would surely explain the rest of their captain’s ill humor at the moment.

Geary sent the message calling a fleet commanding officers conference in one hour, then left the bridge, noticing the watch-standers all doing their best to avoid attracting the attention of Captain Desjani where she sat scowling at her display. He paused for just a moment, recalling his own days as a junior officer, when reading the captain’s temper and steering as wide of that individual as necessary on bad days formed an important part of the standard routine no matter the ship or the captain. In the days when Geary had been a junior officer, the idea of open dissent against a fleet commander would have been thought insubordinate. A fleet captain conspiring against that commander to the extent of destroying Alliance warships would have been simply unthinkable. So much had been altered in the last century, driven by the stresses of an apparently unending war. But steering clear of a captain in a foul mood hadn’t changed in the hundred years he’d been in survival sleep. It probably hadn’t changed in a thousand years or more. No matter how much was different from the past, some traditions and practices withstood the stresses of time and events.

Not all of those traditions and practices were necessarily good or wise, but he still found the thought comforting.

ONE hour later he was in the conference room again, the atmosphere in the compartment as tense as it had ever been. Geary stood at the head of the table, trying not to look toward where Captain Kila’s image would appear, as the images of the fleet’s ship commanders popped into place, and the table and room appeared to expand to accommodate them.

Desjani entered the room, the only one besides Geary who was physically present, and took her seat next to him. She caught his eye and nodded, then fixed her gaze on the table surface. He could sense the tension in Desjani, like that of a great cat ready to spring but holding herself back by force of will. It was the same impression Desjani gave when preparing for a firing run against a Syndic warship, but this time her target was one of the Alliance fleet’s own officers.

To Geary’s surprise and gratitude, the image of Captain Duellos showed up next to that of Captain Cresida. Duellos’s uniform had been cleaned and patched up. Aside from the slight stiffness of his movements, it would have been hard to tell how much he had been through lately. The image of Co-President Rione appeared among the captains of the fleet’s ships from the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation. She also looked directly at Geary and nodded, though in her case the gesture also conveyed the message that the ambush was ready to spring. Rione’s eyes held a warning reminder, too. You’re a lousy actor and very bad at lying, Captain Geary, Rione had told him less than half an hour ago. You’ll be angry, but try to make that anger look like it’s directed at someone whose identity you don’t know. Don’t say anything about the first worm or speculations about where the worms have come from until you get the signals that the trap is ready. If you don’t talk about what we know, then you won’t be lying, and you won’t sound like you’re lying. There were worse flaws to have than an inability to lie well, he thought as he waited for everyone’s image to arrive at the conference. At least as long as he had Rione along to help him past places where he might otherwise have to lie. Geary imagined how the fleet’s officers would simply nod knowingly if they ever found out he needed a politician to provide advice on avoiding the truth. Colonel Carabali appeared as unruffled as ever, but she also took a moment to nod to Geary in apparent greeting, actually confirming that her Marines were ready.

The last officers arrived, most of them relatively junior commanding officers from the smallest and therefore most distant warships who had slightly misjudged the time delay for transmissions at the speed of light to cross between their ships and Dauntless. Now everyone sat silently as Geary stood up and began speaking in as controlled a voice as he could manage. “One of our heavy cruisers, Lorica, has been destroyed and her crew murdered by individuals whose political goals are more important to them than the lives of our fleet’s personnel.” Rione had suggested those exact words, linking the ones responsible for the loss of Lorica to the sort of politics the fleet scorned. “Dauntless narrowly avoided destruction as well.”

Captain Badaya slammed his palm onto the table before him, the meeting software obligingly adding the sound of the gesture as if Badaya had physically hit the table on Dauntless. “Backstabbing bastards!

How can anyone in this fleet with any knowledge of those responsible for this hold back?”

“I don’t know,” Geary replied, letting his eyes search the faces of every officer. He noticed that Kila looked around as well, with a perfectly calculated expression of righteous anger, a move that, Geary realized, kept her from having to meet his gaze. “This is the last chance for anyone here who knows anything. Tell us what you know, or you’ll face the same punishment as those who did it.”

No one answered.

“I know there are those who disagree with my decisions as commander of this fleet,” Geary added.

“Dissent is one thing. Murder and the destruction of Alliance warships is another. I believe I’ve given everyone adequate grounds to be certain that I will keep my word. Those who destroyed Lorica also surely destroyed the shuttle carrying Captain Casia and Commander Yin in Lakota Star System. Those officers were murdered, too, to keep them quiet. Anyone who knows anything about this should realize that their lives are in the hands of someone who will kill rather than risk exposure. You will be protected if you come forward now.”

More silence, longer this time.

Duellos looked like he was tasting something foul. “I increasingly suspect that whoever is behind all of this is operating under a cloak of anonymity. I cannot believe that if their identities were known to many of those who once supported them, that they would not be revealed now.”

“If someone could find a thread leading to them,” Captain Tulev objected, “then they could trace that thread back given time and determination no matter how many precautions had been taken.”

“Maybe that’s why Commander Gaes died on Lorica,” Captain Cresida interjected. “She went with Falco, so at one time she was tied in with those opposed to Captain Geary’s command of this fleet. She’d also acquitted herself loyally since that time, though. Maybe she used the contacts she knew of to find the ones behind all of this.” Cresida hadn’t been told that, but she was shrewd enough to connect the dots once Lorica was targeted for destruction.

Daring’s commanding officer shook his head. “It’s all speculation. We need hard data. We need evidence!”

“Do we?” Cresida asked. “The truth would come out in an interrogation room. I hereby volunteer to be questioned in an interrogation room about my knowledge of the worms that have been used against this fleet, and I urge all of my fellow commanding officers to do so as well.”

Captain Armus of Colossus frowned. “That’s a very big step to take. You’re indirectly questioning the honor of every officer in the fleet. If we agree to being interrogated, we move the line of what’s permissible against our fellow officers, even those who aren’t even remotely suspected of a crime. We move that line very, very far.”

A lot of the officers present nodded in agreement. Even Geary found himself reflexively rejecting Cresida’s idea. By establishing a precedent for broad interrogations of any officer, whether that individual was suspected of crimes or not, the cure might be worse than the illness represented by someone like Captain Kila.

But if he hadn’t received that message from Lorica, would he feel the same way? Or, driven by anger and frustration, would he have reluctantly agreed with Cresida and perhaps fatally undermined a critical component of the fleet? He’d been appalled by the compromises made in the principles of the Alliance over the hundred years of war, but moments like this helped Geary see how easy it was to make such compromises, to abandon important principles “just this once because it was important.”

“Co-President Rione volunteered to be interrogated when she was under suspicion,” one of the Callas Republic captains reminded everyone.

“A politician can scarcely be considered to have a conception of honor equal to that of a fleet officer.”

Armus blurted out the statement, then reddened as he realized he’d said it in Rione’s presence.

“Given her position as an Alliance senator,” Duellos pointed out, “it was a comparable act.”

“And,” Captain Desjani stated in a deceptively dispassionate tone, “since many here believe politicians have much more to fear in the way of wrongdoing being revealed in such interrogations, Co-President Rione’s offer was arguably of even greater significance than if a fleet officer made such an agreement.”

“Thank you, Captain Desjani,” Rione replied in a voice that could have cut through hull armor. Geary had been stalling while Kila was occupied with the meeting, letting the debate ramble to kill time. Now Colonel Carabali looked aside at something visible to her, then nodded again to Geary. The trap was set.

Geary rapped his knuckles on the table to get everyone’s attention. “We need not question the honor of every officer in this fleet, nor do we need to subject officers to blanket questioning in ways that would harm the structure and discipline of the fleet.” He had their attention, all of the other officers watching him and clearly wondering what he would say next. Even Desjani managed to do a decent job of looking puzzled. “Instead, we’ll let the dead speak.”

Varying expressions of shock and surprise appeared on every face as Geary tapped the table with one fingertip. “Lorica’s commanding officer was able to transmit something important just before her ship’s destruction, something she’d found. Her ship was probably targeted because the plotters suspected that Commander Gaes had learned too much, just as Captain Cresida speculated.” He couldn’t be certain of that, couldn’t know for how long Gaes had been aware of the identity of the ship from which the original worm came. Gaes had known about the original worm, she’d warned Geary of it, but if she’d known who was behind it, she hadn’t told him then. Gaes had died in the line of duty, though, and had given him the information he desperately needed, so in Geary’s eyes she deserved to be given every benefit of the doubt.

Geary entered a command. The message from Lorica appeared, floating above the table, the meeting software making it appear to face everyone. “You’ll recall the first worm placed in this fleet’s operating systems, the one that would have disabled most of the jump drives, except for a few ships like Dauntless, which would have been doomed to remain in jump space forever.” He indicated the message. “This identifies the one thing we lacked, the information revealing from which ship that worm originated.”

Everyone was staring at him as Geary shifted his gaze and focused on Kila. “Captain Kila, that worm originated from Inspire.”

Kila appeared taken aback at the news. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, Captain Kila. Would you care to explain how your ship is the source of treasonous and malicious software aimed at your comrades in this fleet?”

“I don’t care for what you’re implying, Captain Geary!” Kila snapped back at him.

“We should immediately send orders to Inspire to arrest those who could have been involved,” Badaya urged. “Do it now, before they hear about this.”

Kila turned on Badaya. “This message hasn’t even been authenticated yet. Did it actually come from Lorica? If it did, is it real or fabricated? I assure every officer here that if I had known anything about such a thing, I would have personally ensured that those responsible were brought to justice! As for your suggestion, Captain Badaya, I am fully capable of ordering the arrest of those officers and ensuring that anything they know is revealed.”

If he hadn’t been tipped off by Rione to watch for it, Geary wouldn’t have noticed how one of Kila’s hands slipped out of sight during her impassioned denial. That hand could easily be manipulating controls outside the view of the conferencing software. “The message can be examined by anyone seeking to establish its authenticity,” he replied, trying to keep his voice calm even though he wanted to yell back at Kila. “Every communications and security officer who has looked at it thus far has identified its original source as Inspire. You were unaware that the worm originated from Inspire?”

“Of course I was!” Kila glared around, her gaze fixing on Duellos. “You set this up, didn’t you? The long-ago-scorned lover finally finding his revenge!”

Duellos had no trouble looking innocent as he shook his head, since he hadn’t been advised beforehand of the message, but his dislike of Kila was still apparent. “I would think that a commanding officer would be less concerned about herself and more concerned about discovering the source of that worm aboard her ship.”

“Whoever is responsible will be brought to account!” Kila stood. “I need to be supervising the search on Inspire for whoever did this, before they learn about this information, assuming,” she added quickly, “that the message supposedly from Lorica is authentic.”

Geary looked at Colonel Carabali again as the Marine listened to something not audible to the meeting, then the Marine commander nodded a final time, and Geary smiled grimly at Kila. “We should start with your ship’s systems-security officer, don’t you think, Captain Kila? And the communications officer and the executive officer?”

“Of course!” Kila said. “If you let me start my investigation, I will ensure they aren’t alerted about this possible evidence in time for them to—”

“The investigation has already started.” Geary broke in. “Colonel Carabali, can you bring everyone up to date?”

Carabali avoided looking at Kila, her own face set in rigidly professional lines as she spoke in a flat voice.

“On instructions from Captain Geary, my Marines assigned to Inspire waited until this meeting began, then covertly took into protective custody the executive officer, communications officer, and systems-security officer on Inspire.”

The images of the fleet’s commanding officers were now staring either at Carabali or Geary or Kila. Geary hoped he wasn’t looking triumphant. Kila’s face revealed nothing but seemed to have become unnaturally stiff.

“The officers taken into custody,” Carabali continued, “were placed inside a maximum-isolation security cell while they were checked for anything dangerous to themselves or Inspire. Maximum-isolation cells include complete coverage based on an ancient device called a Faraday cage, which blocks any incoming or outgoing radiation. Communication is maintained using physical messages passed through a series of shielded locks.” Colonel Carabali paused for a moment, then looked straight at Kila. “Approximately three minutes ago, examinations of the systems-security officer and the communications officer on Inspire revealed the presence of INBNDs. As of one minute ago, sensors on the outside of the security cells detected and grounded out a series of signals used for high-security, coded transmissions. The signals must have been generated inside Inspire’s hull.”

Captain Tulev spoke into the momentary silence that followed. “INBNDs?”

“Injected nano-based neural disruptors,” Carabali explained, “which are commonly known as ‘brain barbecues’ for their effect on the nervous system once triggered. They can be injected into an individual without that person’s knowledge if the individual is distracted. The intercepted signals appear to have been intended to trigger the brain barbecues.”

This time the silence was longer. “Someone just tried to kill those three officers?” Captain Badaya finally asked incredulously.

“The systems-security officer and the communications officer, definitely. We’re still examining Inspire’s executive officer to see if INBNDs are present in his body.” Carabali’s eyes didn’t leave Kila. “As I said, the intercepted signals originated on Inspire.”

Desjani had her own gaze locked on Kila as if she were a hell-lance battery ready to fire. “How strange that someone tried to kill those officers right after those in this meeting were told of the worm that originated from Inspire. Who on Inspire would have known that those officers were going to be questioned?”

Duellos nodded, his own expression as hard as the armor on a battleship. “It will certainly be interesting to see whom those officers implicate once they are informed that someone tried to kill them. To keep them silent? To make it appear that they were the only guilty ones? We would have been left with two or three dead officers and perhaps some convincing evidence that they committed suicide after learning they were suspects.”

Kila’s single-minded devotion to promotion had left her few friends and admirers among her peers or juniors, and Geary could see every other commanding officer in the fleet watching Kila with an appalled or angry expression. Even Caligo seemed stunned.

“Captain Kila,” Geary stated with what he felt was admirable restraint, “in light of recent events and the evidence available to the fleet, you are hereby relieved of command while the situation on Inspire is investigated. Colonel Carabali, please send some of your Marines to escort Captain Kila to a shuttle for transfer to Illustrious.”

Kila looked around the table contemptuously, then raised one arm in a dramatic gesture before lowering it to tap something on the control panel before her on Inspire. “Never mind, Colonel. Your Marines won’t be able to enter my stateroom. The Alliance is going to lose this war because it’s weak, because its fleet officers are weak. None of you are fit to command this fleet, especially you, Captain Geary. You care more for the lives of Syndics than you do for the lives of Alliance citizens!”

Badaya spoke in a voice so deep he seemed to be speaking from his gut. “You murderous bitch. How dare you claim to care for the lives of Alliance citizens when you murdered the crew of Lorica and tried to murder the crews of Illustrious, Dauntless, and Furious!”

Kila bared her teeth at Badaya. “We are all sworn to die for the sake of the Alliance, and the unfortunate sacrifice of those crews would have been for the highest cause. It would have been no different than if they died in combat against those who would weaken and destroy the Alliance. If we want to swap accusations of treason, I’m ready. What has Geary promised you after he takes over the Alliance? You call yourselves loyal? You’re pathetic and corrupt, selling yourselves out for someone who wants power but won’t do what’s necessary to save the Alliance.”

Duellos answered, his voice as cold as Geary had ever heard it. “The Alliance has been doing what some people claimed to be ‘necessary’ for the last hundred years and is no closer to winning the war.”

“Because of half measures and hesitation!” Kila declared. “Always pulling back from what necessity demanded. The enemy deserves no mercy. None. They deserve death, and only when they realized that we were willing to kill every one of them would they have given in.”

“And if the enemy didn’t give in?”

Kila swept one hand in a dismissive gesture. “Then they’d all be killed, and the war would end that way.”

Tulev spoke, his voice flat. “I have as much right as any to comment on that. I don’t know what the Syndics deserve, but their killing of the Alliance’s people has never served to persuade us to surrender. Even if your proposal weren’t physically beyond the capabilities of even the Alliance, it would be fundamentally flawed in its belief that humans would bow before mass murder of their own.”

“Your spirit died at Elyzia,” Kila replied, causing a rare display of emotion by Tulev as his face reddened.

“I don’t fear to speak the truth about such things. But none of you want the truth, none of you want to face your own shortcomings. You could have had a leader who would have done what needed to be done, but you’d rather die by stages, pathetic shadows of what fleet officers used to be.”

Geary shook his head. “Fleet officers never believed in killing their own to satisfy their ambitions.”

Kila’s snarl turned smug. “My ambitions? Do you think I was delusional enough to think a herd of sheep like this would accept me in command? Your pitiful egos couldn’t have accepted that. I had someone who would listen, who’d be accepted by all of you, even though he now lacks the courage to stand beside me.” She turned and looked directly at Captain Caligo, who stared back. “Weren’t you going to tell them? Staying in the background isn’t going to work this time. I have no intention of falling on my sword to protect you while you try to hide your own involvement.”

Caligo shook his head violently. “I don’t know what—”

“We agreed that we were willing to die for the Alliance, remember?” Kila goaded him. “I saw your face just now, saw that you were ready to blend in again, being whatever those around you wanted to see. What do you think they see now?”

Caligo had gone very pale. “You’re lying. There’s no proof for any of this.”

“Do you think I was stupid enough to trust you?” Kila stood at attention, her contemptuous gaze sweeping across every officer there, then reached down and tapped a sequence of commands. “You wanted evidence, Captain Geary? I just transmitted enough to make it clear that Caligo agreed to everything.” Her eyes were fixed on Geary now. “My enemies have always wanted to drag me down out of envy, but if you were really Black Jack, I could have supported you! I could have stood with a real man, but that man died in survival sleep and left you, an empty shell. All you deserve is that dishonorable politician and that simple-minded captain. I only hope one or both of them wake up and stick a knife in you someday. It’s the only thing you’re worthy of.”

Duellos shook his head, looking regretful but unyielding. “You’re so certain of what everyone else deserves, but you’re a poor judge of that. You made your enemies, Sandra, your ambition blinded you, and now you will face the firing squad you deserve.”

“You have no right to judge me.”

Captain Armus answered. “The crew of Lorica has that right, don’t they, Kila? Soon enough you’ll be facing them. If I were you, I’d be preparing to beg forgiveness. None of them survived to see you die, but we will witness that moment for them.”

Kila glared at him, staying at attention. “I won’t give any of you the satisfaction of watching me die. I’ll see you all in hell, which is where you’ve chosen to be led.” She slammed her hand down on her controls back on Inspire, and her image vanished.

“Colonel?” Geary demanded.

Carabali was listening to a report, then frowned. “My Marines can’t override the lock on Captain Kila’s stateroom. They’ve sent for—” Carabali paused, looking to one side and nodding to someone, then faced Geary again. “My Marines report an explosion inside Captain Kila’s stateroom. It appears to have been equivalent to two standard room-clearing charges.”

“What are the chances anyone in the room with that is still alive?”

“Zero.”

The conference room was silent, everyone staring at the spot that Captain Kila’s image had once occupied. The quiet was finally broken by a high-priority message alert. “Was this cleared by the security screens?” Geary asked.

Desjani spoke rapidly into her data unit, then nodded. “It’s clean.”

He opened it, seeing a mass of files and archived e-mails. Selecting a few at random, he read them, seeing hatred and contempt for him, and much else as well. “This is the evidence that Captain Kila sent before killing herself,” he informed the other officers. He popped one of the old e-mails onto the display over the table so everyone could read it.

Tulev was the first to comment. “From Captain Caligo, reaffirming his commitment to follow instructions from Captain Kila in return for her backing as commander of the fleet. Can we be certain of the authenticity of this document and the others provided by Captain Kila?”

Badaya was glaring at Caligo. “They certainly constitute adequate grounds for interrogation. If Captain Caligo is innocent of involvement in the attempts to destroy Alliance warships and the destruction of Lorica, I’m sure he won’t object to the chance to clear himself.”

Caligo swallowed and spoke. “As my fellow officers, you surely adhere to the principles in which the fleet believes.”

“Was that a yes or a no?” Duellos asked.

“Every officer has a right to have his full record considered and his honor not questioned without reason.

..” Caligo’s voice trailed off as even he realized that some powerful reasons existed. Desjani leaned forward, her expression as stern as Geary had ever seen it. “There is exactly one thing that might grant you an honorable death instead of that of a traitor and a coward. Tell us everything you know and everyone who was involved in this. We’ll get that anyway, even if you have to be read the names of every person in this fleet so we can see your reactions in the interrogation chamber. But it will save time and possibly ships if you talk now.” She looked around the table. “Kila may have tried to activate another worm. Until we know everything, we have to assume the threat isn’t over.”

This time the looks bent toward Caligo were frightened and dangerous. He quailed before them and shook his head. “I don’t know. I swear.”

“Do you know which parts of the fleet net Kila was using to send out the worms? Do you know any identifiers? Who wrote them?”

“Y-yes.”

Colonel Carabali listened to another report. “My Marines have blown the hatch on Captain Kila’s stateroom and entered. They confirm that she’s dead. They’re doing a sweep for physical booby traps and recommend that fleet software experts do a careful search for any triggers in that stateroom that might activate destructive worms.”

“Is there anyone on Inspire we can trust to do that?” Geary asked the officers around the table.

“Send in a team from Valiant,” Cresida suggested. “They’re probably the sharpest software geeks in the fleet.”

Commander Landis, Valiant’s commanding officer, smiled tightly. “My software-security team is good. I’ll have them shuttled over to Inspire. I’d recommend every system on Inspire be scrubbed. That will take a while.”

“Can you get it done before we jump for Atalia?” Geary asked.

“Yes, sir. One way or the other, we’ll have Inspire certified clean before the next jump.”

“Thank you, Commander Landis. Get going on that immediately.” Geary faced Captain Caligo, who was now sitting perfectly still, like a rabbit caught in the open and trying to avoid attracting attention. It seemed pretty clear that he wouldn’t commit a spectacular act of suicide like Kila had. “Captain Caligo, you are hereby relieved of command effective immediately. You’ll be taken into custody and transported to Illustrious. I expect you to provide us with all of the information you’ve promised to deliver, and I expect to start seeing that before you reach Illustrious.”

Caligo didn’t respond, just sat staring at the table.

“Captain Caligo, do you understand?” Geary asked in his harshest voice.

“Yes, sir.” Caligo bent his head and began speaking quietly into a recorder in his stateroom. He was still at it when the Marines assigned to Brilliant arrived and removed him from the meeting software. Afterward, everyone sat, seemingly stunned. To Geary’s surprise, it was Captain Armus who broke the silence, speaking gruffly. “Captain Geary, I’ve not hesitated to speak up when I disagreed with you. But now I apologize for anything I have said or done that may have encouraged Kila and Caligo to believe their actions were justified.”

“Thank you, Captain Armus. I haven’t always been happy with your dissents, but I recognize the need for them and appreciate your willingness to speak your mind. I do not hold you at fault in any way for the actions of Kila and Caligo.” Geary looked around the table, easily able to see how badly rattled his commanding officers had been by what had taken place. “A terrible thing has happened. Two of our officers have broken faith with the rest of us. There may be more, but we have the leads we need to unravel the rest of the plot if need be. My confidence in everyone still here is unshaken. I have said before and I will say again now that no one has ever been privileged to have a finer group of officers serving under him, and no one has ever been so honored as to command such a fleet as I have. I thank you for your service and your loyalty and your sacrifice. I will do all I can to live up to the honor that has been given me to serve as your commander.”

He wasn’t sure how they’d react, but one by one, then in a rush, every officer stood to attention and wordlessly saluted him.

Geary returned the salutes, feeling overwhelmed. “Thank you. The investigation will continue, but let’s put this ugliness behind us and prepare for battle at Atalia.”

They cheered then, after which the virtual presences vanished slower than usual as images crowded forward to bid individual farewells to Geary. Finally, he was alone in the room except for the real presence of Desjani and the remaining image of Rione.

Desjani saluted as well, an unmistakable look of pride on her face as she gazed at Geary.

“What?” he asked.

“I’ll explain it to you someday,” she replied with a smile. “By your leave, sir.”

“Certainly, Captain Desjani.”

After she’d left, Rione’s image sat silent, her face in her hands.

“Are you all right?” Geary asked.

“I underestimated you,” she replied in a low voice.

“I don’t understand.”

Rione lowered her hands and looked at him. “You’re even more dangerous than I thought. They’re yours. You must have seen that. And even I found myself wondering what I would do if you announced you would become the leader of the Alliance.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know exactly what you’d do.”

“I suppose.” Rione stood up. “You need to talk to Badaya. Soon. Otherwise, the momentum to make you a dictator may become unstoppable.”

“I’ll talk to him before we leave Padronis.”

“Good. There are very few people in human history who have rejected the kind of power you could have, John Geary.”

“I’ve rejected it,” he insisted, “because I’m not qualified to wield it.”

“And that belief of yours, ironically, is what would enable us to trust you with that power.” She leaned closer. “Hold to your oath, Captain Geary. Only your example and forbearance can save the Alliance.”

Then her image vanished as well.

On his way back to his stateroom, Geary realized that he had two more decisions to make and not much time to make them. Reaching his stateroom, he immediately called the bridge. “Captain Desjani, please get ahold of Captain Duellos and have him call me as soon as possible.”

Sitting down, Geary tried to absorb all that had happened. It was hard to believe that dangerous opposition to him within the fleet had finally been brought to an end. His hatch alert chimed and Geary gave the hatch an irritated look. Can’t I have five minutes to deal with this? But he didn’t know how important this visitor might be. “Please enter.”

Co-President Rione stepped inside his stateroom, then made a questioning gesture around her. Understanding what that meant, Geary activated the stateroom’s highest-security seals. “What is it?”

“I want you to know that my agents within the fleet have detected no signs of any other opposition. They’ve been watching as the news about Kila spreads. There are no signs of other worms, no signs of anyone expressing any support for her or Caligo, no missteps that might indicate hidden sympathies for them.”

“That’s good to know.” Could he finally dispense with such things and no longer worry about someone having to monitor his own officers for indications they might pose a danger to the fleet? “I’ll feel a lot better, though, as soon as Valiant’s geeks finish sweeping Inspire’s gear.”

“Of course.”

An insistent buzzing told Geary that someone was trying to contact him using command priority. “Excuse me, Madam Co-President, but I probably need to take this.” He accepted the message, and Captain Desjani appeared on the comm panel.

“That’s perfectly all right,” Rione replied. “I’ve told you what I needed to say, and I didn’t mean to intrude on your rendezvous with your special friend.”

Geary was still searching for the right, unheated reply when Rione left. Desjani’s image was glaring from the comm screen. “Sir, I swear that I am this far from hurting that woman,” she hissed, holding her thumb and forefinger less than a centimeter apart.

“That would be a violation of Alliance law and fleet regulations,” Geary replied wearily.

“Only if they prove I did it knowingly. I could beat the hell out of her in some really dark place and say I didn’t know who she was.”

At the moment, the idea did sound tempting. Geary tried to shake it out of his head. “No. We need her.”

“Do I get to beat her up when we don’t need her anymore?” Desjani asked. “Please?”

More temptation. “I can’t promise you that. Even though at times like this I’d like to. What’s up?”

“Captain Duellos is ready to speak with you. You had a security hold on incoming transmissions, so he couldn’t get through,” Desjani added in accusing tones.

“Sorry. I’ll lift the hold. Thanks.”

“My pleasure, sir,” she responded pointedly. before her image vanished. Geary sighed and waited for Duellos to appear. A moment later the other captain did, his virtual image seeming to stand in the stateroom with Geary. “You wanted to speak with me, Captain Geary?” Duellos asked.

“Yes, but first please take a seat.” Duellos nodded gratefully and sat down in a seat on Furious, the image in Geary’s stateroom mimicking the gesture on one of Geary’s seats.

“I need to know how well you’re doing. You seemed fine during the confrontation with Kila, but are you really in good shape inside?”

Duellos cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m doing as well as can be expected for a captain without a ship.”

“Do you want another ship?” Geary asked bluntly. “I’ve got a couple of battle cruisers that suddenly need captains.”

“Brilliant and Inspire?” Duellos drew in a long breath. “Which one?”

“Which one can you handle? I don’t think Brilliant has any special problems aside from the shock the crew must be feeling.”

Duellos bared his teeth in a humorless grin. “But you need me on Inspire.”

“That’s true.” Geary sat down opposite Duellos. “I need the best I’ve got on Inspire, and that’s you. I have no idea how badly Kila messed up that ship, but it might be a real snake pit. The former commanding officer is dead, the former executive officer, systems-security officer, and communications officer are all under arrest, and the remaining officers are all going to have to be investigated.”

“A real opportunity to excel,” Duellos murmured with more than a trace of sarcasm. “Many of my officers got off Courageous, so if I was authorized to bring some of them along…”

“Granted. Take as many of Courageous’s old crew as you want. Inspire took some serious personnel losses while Kila was making glorious charges against the enemy and needs the replacements.”

Duellos thought for a few moments while Geary waited, then finally nodded. “Inspire’s crew will be needing a lot of rebuilding. I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you. I couldn’t ask for more, or a better officer for the job. Inspire herself needs a lot of rebuilding, too. She’s pretty badly shot up.”

“Having to focus the crew on repairing the ship may help repair their own morale.” Duellos quirked a small smile. “At times like this, seeing something tangible accomplished can make a big difference. I assume you want me on Inspire an hour ago?”

“Yes,” Geary agreed, “but take the time you need to choose which personnel from Courageous you’re taking with you. Like I said, you can have all of them if you want. I’ll position Inspire near the auxiliaries so they can provide repair support and services easily.”

“Another ship and right back near the auxiliaries? I may get a reputation as a bad-luck captain out of this.” Duellos smiled slightly again. “Thank you for not asking me to take Orion.”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with Orion.”

“Put Numos back in command,” Duellos suggested. “He’ll cause Orion to be destroyed in the next engagement for certain.”

“If her crew doesn’t start performing, I may do just that.” Geary looked upward as if addressing the living stars. “I’m joking.” Lowering his gaze to Duellos again, he indicated the fleet status display. “The First Battle Cruiser Division is down to one ship, Formidable, and the Seventh only has Brilliant and Inspire. I was thinking of folding them into a single division, a reconstituted First Division containing all three ships.”

Duellos shook his head, looking haggard for a moment. “Combining two battle cruiser divisions and getting only three ships in the result. I think that’s a good idea, but it also indicates how badly torn up this fleet has been.” He paused, then nodded firmly. “Yes. A good idea. Formidable won’t be lonely, and Inspire and Brilliant will have a fine ship as a division mate and a symbolic new start. Who do you plan to give Brilliant?”

“Beats the hell out of me. Captain Baccade off Intrepid was pretty badly hurt along with her ship. She’s in no shape to take another command yet.”

“I understand Commander Vigory is eager for a ship,” Duellos commented blandly. Geary shot him an annoyed look. “He told me that within a day of being liberated from the POW camp. I’m not impressed by his record, and I don’t have time to teach a new commanding officer how I fight.”

“Just thought I’d mention it since he’s devoting a great deal of time to complaining about your decisions. That one regarding him and many others.” Duellos smiled wryly. “I was watching him to see if he’d be contacted by the conspirators against you and lead us to them. But events here in Padronis took place before anyone working for Kila or Caligo could contact him.”

“Not everyone opposed to me is a traitor,” Geary grumbled. “I’ll make sure he’s being kept busy, but I’m not going to give Vigory Brilliant or any other ship. I think he’s just too assertive on his own behalf. Self-confidence is important, but not when it tramples on discretion.”

“As recently demonstrated to us in as graphic a way as possible.” Duellos seemed to think for a moment.

“We lost Tarian at Heradao. Her former commanding officer, Jame Yunis, has a fine reputation.”

Geary pulled up Yunis’s records and skimmed them. “He does look good. You think he’s up to it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll give him a good look and make a decision before we jump for Atalia.” Geary exhaled slowly.

“Would you mind hanging around a couple of more minutes while I call Captain Desjani down here and we go over something with you? I’d like your impressions because I’m only going to get one chance to get it right. I will have to ask that you never divulge it, though.”

Duellos watched him for a long moment. “I can’t agree to anything that would violate my oath, you understand.”

“This won’t. I swear.”

Desjani only required a few minutes to join them. Geary went over his planned pitch, then waited. Once again, Duellos spent a while thinking, then nodded. “I can’t think of any way to improve that, but you’re walking a tightrope, you know.”

“One of many,” Geary agreed.

“If you’re going to speak with Badaya now, I’ll be happy to wait a few moments to make it appear as if I am, uh, ‘backing’ what you’re not really doing.”

Desjani nodded. “That’d be a good idea. Duellos is widely regarded as a special confidant of yours. His presence when Badaya arrives would please Badaya.”

“As would yours,” Duellos pointed out.

She gritted her teeth. “Do I have to? He’s going to say something. I know he will. And I’ll have to pretend I didn’t hear it.”

“Just for a few minutes, Tanya,” Duellos suggested. “Then we can leave and let Badaya have his special talk with Black Jack.”

“Roberto, you know that Captain Geary and I haven’t—”

Duellos held up both hands to forestall her. “Of course I do. All of your friends know that, Tanya. You wouldn’t do such a thing with your commanding officer, no matter what.” Desjani looked away, her gaze on the deck. “I imagine having to deal with the rumors is no fun at all.”

“Many things are difficult to deal with,” Desjani muttered. “I’ll manage.”

Duellos gazed at Geary as he answered her. “I’m certain you will, Tanya. All right, then. Let’s summon Badaya and get this over with. What happens if you can’t convince him?”

“I don’t know. I might have to bring the whole thing out in the open, make a public speech to the entire fleet declaring that I will not support a coup against the Alliance government, but I’m afraid some people would just read my bringing up the subject of a coup as implying I’m actually trying to sound out backing for one.”

“That’s exactly how those favoring a coup would see it,” Duellos agreed. “Let’s hope you can divert Badaya and the many who believe like him onto a course that we can all live with. Otherwise, the victory of bringing the fleet home may turn into the greatest defeat the Alliance has ever suffered.”