Falco eyed him, a trace of wariness in his eyes, even though the smile was still present. “Support doesn’t come without a price.”
Isn’t that a surprise? “I’m afraid I have nothing to offer in exchange for support but the welfare of this fleet and of the Alliance.”
“That’s all I care about!” It sounded completely sincere, and Geary realized it probably was. Falco believed he could save the Alliance and believed that he could make better decisions than the elected leaders of the Alliance. “The Alliance needs a strong leader! I have to know your actions will work to the short-and long-term benefit of the Alliance, and frankly, right now I’m concerned that you don’t realize how serious things have gotten in the many years you were in survival sleep!”
It had been easier to think of Falco as an opportunist. Instead, he was apparently motivated by a genuine and heartfelt belief that he and he alone could save the Alliance. In some ways, that probably made him more dangerous, Geary reflected. No one else could ever meet Falco’s ideal of the best leader, a position reserved in Falco’s mind for Falco himself, and no action that Falco disapproved of could possibly be right.
Geary tried to speak in as professional and dispassionate a way as he could. “I grant that you are concerned for the welfare of the Alliance. Our opinions on the right courses of action may diverge at times. But fate and my rank have placed me in command of this fleet. I can’t in good conscience deny my duty to this fleet and to the Alliance, which requires me to lead this fleet to the best of my ability. I believe we are in agreement that getting this fleet back to Alliance space is critical to the Alliance war effort, and I welcome your support in ensuring that happens.”
Falco’s smile had vanished again. “You expect me to stand by while you squander opportunities to strike important blows against the Syndicate Worlds? While this fleet wanders around backwaters of the Syndicate Worlds instead of seeking out the enemy? While civilian politicians with no experience presume to tell us how to fight this war?”
“None of those things are happening,” Geary stated. “We are engaging the enemy, we are heading for home, and Co-President Rione does not interfere in the decision making of this fleet.”
“Extended survival sleep does things to people,” Falco observed with enough acid to match Captain Faresa’s best. “It warps their judgment.”
“And your judgment isn’t warped?” Geary asked. “Have you ever made a mistake, Captain Falco? Ever?”
Falco glared back, openly hostile now. “There have been times when I have placed too much trust in some subordinates, but I personally have been able to avoid serious errors. Which is why I should be commanding this fleet, and which is why I will try to convince my fellow officers of that fact.”
“I see.” Geary took a moment to wonder what would happen if people willing to believe in perfect heroes, as some thought of him, were combined with a man who thought he was perfect. The idea was frightening. “Captain Falco, I have a job to do to the best of my ability. I take that responsibility very seriously. Your duty to the Alliance is to support my efforts. I will not tolerate any attempts to hinder me. If you attempt to undermine or obstruct my command of this fleet, I will make you regret it. Do not doubt my honor, Captain Falco. Perhaps it’s a very old-fashioned thing, but I do take it seriously.”
Falco stared back at Geary for several seconds, then spun on one heel, turning to go. “Captain Falco.” Falco stopped in midmotion, hesitating at the tone of Geary’s voice. “You have permission to leave.” Though Geary couldn’t see Falco’s face, he could see the other captain’s neck redden alarmingly.
Falco whirled back to face Geary as the hatch opened and revealed Rione standing there about to touch the alert button. She paused, watching, as Falco spoke with cold precision, apparently not having yet noticed Rione standing nearby. “This fleet deserves a commander whose personal bravery and boldness matches that of its sailors. If you don’t provide that sort of command, I assure you that the fleet will find a new leader.” He pivoted back to leave, freezing for a moment at the sight of Rione, then walked brusquely past her without a word.
Rione gave Geary an inquisitive look. “Did your meeting go well?”
“Very funny. What brings you back here?”
“I wanted to inform you that Captain Falco had expressed concern to me about whether you were acting in the best interests of the Alliance,” Rione stated matter-of-factly.
“He expressed the same sentiment to me about you,” Geary replied.
“Among other sentiments?” Rione asked. “You know what you’re dealing with now.” She nodded and left as well.
Geary closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in a vain attempt to relax as the hatch closed. He sat down again, drumming the fingers of one hand on the armrest next to him, then paged Captain Desjani. “Do you have time to stop by my stateroom? I’d like to discuss a few things.”
It took Captain Desjani only a few minutes to arrive. She gave him a quizzical look. “You needed to speak privately, sir?”
“Yes.” Geary waved her to a seat, sitting forward and waiting until Desjani had sat down, stiff enough in her posture that she seemed to be sitting at attention. I need to know how other officers feel. “Captain, I’d like your candid assessment of Captain Falco.”
Desjani hesitated. “Technically, Captain Falco is senior to me.”
“Yes, but you’re the same rank, and he won’t be commanding this fleet.”
She seemed to relax a bit. “I’ve only known Captain Falco before this from his reputation and from stories told by older officers, sir.”
“I’ve been given to understand he’s well regarded.”
“Yes, in the sense of a dead hero. Captain Falco was seen as an inspiring example.” Desjani grimaced. “You wish me to speak frankly, sir?” Geary nodded. “If Black Jack Geary was regarded as the fleet’s god, then Fighting Falco was a sort of demigod. Officers I’ve spoken to told tales approving of Captain Falco’s fighting spirit and his general attitude.”
Geary nodded again, pondering the irony of the fact that the two things Captain Falco had been admired for were the exact two things Geary disliked most in Falco. “He’s still thought of as a good commander?”
Desjani thought for a few seconds. “If any captain but you had been in command of this fleet, then Captain Falco would’ve very likely ended up in command instead.”
“How would you feel about that?”
Desjani grimaced again. “At one time … I’ve gotten used to dealing with a commander who wasn’t seeking my vote in a fleet conference, sir. You gave me some praise while we were on the shuttle dock if you recall, and that meant a great deal, because you had grounds for making an assessment of me and my ship. When Captain Falco offered praise … I knew it couldn’t have been earned. The contrast was very clear: one commander who respected what I did and another who saw me as someone he could flatter and use.”
Geary thanked whatever had prompted him to say what he had when he had. Perhaps his ancestors were lending him a hand sometimes. “Did you have any other impressions?”
She hesitated, thinking. “He’s very personable, sir. I thought Admiral Bloch was good, but he wasn’t in Captain Falco’s class at all. And I’ve had time for a couple of more brief talks with Lieutenant Riva. He and the other liberated prisoners believe Captain Falco is deeply devoted to the welfare of the Alliance. Captain Falco dedicated great efforts in the labor camp to keeping up morale and assuring everyone that Alliance victory would come. Lieutenant Riva thinks many prisoners would have given up hope and let themselves die without Captain Falco’s example.”