“I’m not—”
“No one planet could hold you now, regardless of where you believe your duty must take you.” Rione stood as well, her eyes still fixed on Geary. “But if it proves necessary to hold you, if someone must act to contain your power, then I will do my best.”
He stared back at her, not believing what he’d heard. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. I’m merely informing you that should you attempt to reach out and take what could be yours, I will be there to stay your hand.” She turned to go, then faced him again. “And lest you doubt, Captain Geary, I am not indispensable. Even if I am lost, there will be others.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“There you are surely wrong. Don’t mistake me. I’m not prejudging you, and what you have done are arguably things that needed to be done to save this fleet. If you hold to your vow to reject the power that will be yours, you’ll have no truer ally than me. But you must not pretend there will be no temptation, Captain Geary. You must not pretend that there won’t be those urging you to take certain actions allegedly for the sake of the Alliance, actions that may then appear justifiable to you but that will destroy everything you claim to honor.”
He glared at her. “I’m not the kind of person who’d do that sort of thing.”
“Is Black Jack Geary that kind of person?”
“What?” He shook his head several times as if to clear it, puzzled that she’d actually posed the question. “I have no idea. I don’t know who that imaginary hero is. I don’t know what he’s like. All I know is he’s not me.”
Rione shook her own head, but slowly in clear negation of Geary’s last statement. “I regret to say that you are wrong. No matter who you think you are, you must realize that, in every way that matters in this universe, you are Black Jack Geary.”
“Then perhaps you’d care to explain to me why I have to work so hard to keep most of these commanding officers happy if they believe in Black Jack Geary so damn much!”
Rione’s mouth twisted. “You said it yourself. They believe in Black Jack Geary, Captain. In their minds, that person must be exceptional in every way. If they come to believe that you are not Black Jack Geary as they imagine that person must be, they would no longer believe in you.”
“So you’re saying I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t? That in order to save this fleet, I have to be exceptional in every way? I have to effectively become the person they think Black Jack Geary is or this fleet will be lost? But just how am I supposed to be exceptional in every way?”
“I’m afraid I cannot help you there, Captain Geary.” Rione inclined her head again, then departed.
Geary watched her leave, then collapsed again onto the nearest seat, two thoughts warring in his mind. What if she’s right? And what the hell did I ever do to deserve this?
“All units in formation sigma roll port twenty degrees at time three four.” Geary waited, then buried his head in his hands as half of the ships rolled in place while the other half moved as if the entire formation were pivoting twenty degrees to port. Listen to the message! Please listen to the message! It’s not like you don’t have time to think about it before the execution time!
Outwardly, Geary spoke as calmly as he could. “All units, take care to execute the order as given.” He checked the time, rubbed his eyes, then broadcast again. “All units. That’s enough for today. Thanks for all your hard work.” I just hope they’re learning something. Not just about keeping formation, either. If they’re paying attention to how I’m calling the maneuvers to account for time-late data, they should be picking up some of that as well.
Captain Desjani looked tired, too, but smiled encouragingly. “I’ve never seen our units actually maneuver like this under battle conditions.”
“You still haven’t,” Geary noted, trying not to sound as sour as he felt. “It’s all simulated and not under the stress of actual combat.”
“I still think we’ve seen a lot of improvement.”
Geary thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. You’re right. We have. Given the amount of time we’ve been working on this, everyone has progressed quite quickly.” He checked the final disposition of the ships on the simulator, now frozen in place. “There’s been a lot of progress for just less than two weeks of running drills. But then there’s a lot of good ship handlers in this fleet.” He nodded again, this time toward Desjani. “Present company included.”
“Thank you, sir.” Desjani looked both pleased and embarrassed by the praise.
“I mean it. You can really handle this ship. You can train some people in ship handling for a star’s lifespan, and they’ll still jerk a ship around like it was a sack of lead. But you’ve got skill. You feel the ship and work with her motion.” Geary levered himself out of his seat. “I’m going to take a break before I review the next simulation scenario. How about you?”
Desjani shook her head. “There’re some things I need to take care of as commanding officer of Dauntless. No rest for the wicked, as they say.”
“I don’t know about wicked, Tanya, but I do know ship captains never get much rest. Thanks for all the help you’ve given me lately.”
“It’s my pleasure, sir.” She sketched an informal salute and left.
Geary sat back down, fought a brief internal battle between a desire for downtime and the need to catch up on his own responsibilities, then called up the latest fleet status reports. There were three former Syndic asteroid mines being worked now, and a gratifying amount of pure metal had been transferred to the auxiliaries, which had kept their own workshops going to provide the fleet with desperately needed spares and replacements for expendable weapons. In addition, some food stocks had been found, still preserved by the cold in the abandoned towns where they’d been left, doubtless because shipping the food out had made no economic sense when the Syndics had left Kaliban. I have a feeling we’re all going to get very tired of Syndic food before we get home. Especially since they undoubtedly ate the stuff that tasted best first and left the stuff no one wanted. A notation on one report advised that scouts had located a storehouse of electronic components that had yielded some useful matériel that could be reworked to meet some Alliance requirements. All in all, the fleet had spent its time in Kaliban well.
An internal communication circuit chimed urgently. “Captain Geary, this is Captain Desjani.”
“Roger. What’s up?”
“They’re here.”
Geary headed for Dauntless’s bridge as fast as he could get there. It was somewhat irrational to rush since the nearest jump exit was two light-hours away, but he still felt the need.
He was still taking his seat when Desjani started briefing him. “Initial sightings indicate the Syndic force is comparable to the one that followed us through Corvus.”
Geary nodded, not commenting on the fact that he’d noticed every Alliance sailor on the Dauntless had stopped talking about the Syndic force “chasing” the Alliance fleet through Corvus. Now they always said the Syndics had simply followed. Within another few weeks, the Alliance sailors would probably be saying the Alliance fleet had somehow been chasing the Syndic force out of Corvus. As long as it salved their pride, Geary wouldn’t correct anyone. “It could actually be the same force. If it is them, they’ve gotten to Kaliban the hard way around, and they’re likely to be a little perturbed with us.”
Desjani grinned. “Per your instructions, we’ve already ordered all shuttles and personnel back to their ships.”