“Including a hypernet gate,” Captain Tulev observed.
“Right.” Geary nodded, looking around and seeing uncertainty on most faces. “If they destroy it, it’ll prevent reinforcements from arriving relatively quickly. If they don’t destroy it…” He let the thought hang, deliberately holding it out as bait.
“We can get home. Fast,” someone breathed.
Numos gave Geary a narrow-eyed look. “The Syndic hypernet key we acquired from the traitor still exists then?”
“It does.”
“We could’ve gone to Cadiz and used it there!”
Geary felt anger rising at the stubborn stupidity of Numos. “As we decided at the time, Cadiz was too obvious an objective. The Syndics surely had overwhelming forces there awaiting us.”
“But they won’t at Sancere? How can you take such an insane risk?” Numos demanded.
Geary stared coldly at him. “I thought I was supposed to be too cautious. Are you now accusing me of being too bold?” He shifted his gaze, sweeping it across the other officers. “You know the truth as well as I do. The Syndics laid not one but three traps for us in this system. They’ve sent word ahead to all of our possible objectives if we continue on our current paths toward Alliance space. The only way to disrupt their plans, to preserve this fleet, is to do something so unexpected, not once but three times, that they’ll be scrambling to catch up.” He pointed again. “Sancere was a big shipbuilding center even before the hypernet, not just because it’s a wealthy star system, but because there’s six stars within jump range, not counting Cydoni. Six options, five of which bear back toward the Alliance. No, I’m not thrilled by the amount of distance we have to make up, but we’ll inflict a major blow on the Syndics, we’ll ruin their plans to keep wearing us down and trap us, and we’ll be able to pick up everything we need to keep going.”
“And if all works,” Captain Duellos added, “perhaps the hypernet gate we need to get home.”
Too many pairs of eyes were still locked on the path Geary had traced. He knew from the expressions that those officers were gauging just how far Geary’s plan would take them from Alliance space. “If our objective is to get home,” Geary emphasized, “and to hurt the Syndics in the process, then Sancere is the way back to Alliance space.”
“This is nonsense,” Numos declared. “I call for a vote!”
Geary eyed him coldly. “There are no votes in my fleet.”
“If I’m to be asked to charge deep into Syndic territory on a suicidal mission, I should be allowed a say in it! We all should!”
Captain Tulev made a disgusted sound. “You already voted to do that. When Admiral Bloch was in command of the fleet. Or have you forgotten that a vote put us in this situation?”
Numos flushed with anger. “That was an entirely different situation. Where is Captain Falco? What is his advice?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” Geary advised. “I’ve already received his input.” And discounted it. But they didn’t have to know that.
“Where is Captain Falco?” Captain Faresa demanded, seconding Numos as usual.
Captain Desjani answered, her voice as calm and un-emotional as if she were providing a routine report. “Captain Falco is undergoing medical tests recommended by the fleet medical personnel aboard the Dauntless.”
Geary tried not to look surprised and not to smile. He hadn’t suspected Desjani could be so devious.
Faresa, however, looked outraged. “Medical tests?”
“Yes,” Desjani confirmed blandly. “For Captain Falco’s safety. He was under considerable physical stress in the Syndic labor camp, and of course also suffered from the pressures of being the senior Alliance officer present there. Fleet medical personnel expressed concern following their initial checkup of Captain Falco, asking for a follow-up examination as soon as possible.”
“What did Captain Falco recommend?” someone asked.
“His advice to me is between Captain Falco and myself,” Geary replied. That didn’t go over well, so Geary decided to elaborate. “I will say that Captain Falco hadn’t had time to fully acquaint himself with the situation this fleet finds itself in. He also recommended that we launch a much larger bombardment of the inhabited worlds in this system. I don’t believe that to be wise, humane, or justified, so I rejected that advice.”
“Captain Falco is a fighting commander,” the captain of the Brigandine finally remarked after another long pause.
“My father died serving under him,” the captain of the Steadfast agreed.
It was too much for Geary. “A lot of sailors died serving under Captain Falco.” A hush followed the blunt comment. “Anyone who wishes to compare my fighting spirit to that of Captain Falco is welcome to contrast what happened at Kaliban with any battle commanded by Captain Falco. Since I believe we serve the Alliance best, and protect our homes best, by both winning and surviving, I don’t fear any comparison of ship losses on both sides or of casualty ratios.”
“I served under Captain Falco at Batana,” Captain Duellos remarked in an almost idle tone. “My first battle and nearly my last. My commanding officer commented afterward that as our losses equaled those of the Syndics, it would’ve been simpler if Captain Falco had only ordered each of his ships to ram one of the enemy ships, thereby achieving the same result with much less difficulty.”
“Captain Falco is a hero of the Alliance!” someone else argued.
“Captain Falco is an officer of this fleet,” Commander Cresida replied sharply. “Are we choosing commanders by vote again? Given how well that’s worked in the past? Has Captain Geary given any reason at all to doubt his judgment? How many of you would’ve chosen to die at Kaliban in the name of adding glory to the battle?”
Her words seem to give pause to most of those present, but Captain Faresa sent a particular acidic look Cresida’s way. “We don’t need to hear lectures from an officer junior to us in rank and experience.”
Commander Cresida flushed, but thanks to time delay in the signal from Cresida’s ship, Geary got his answer in first. “I’m running this meeting and this fleet,” he stated in a hard voice, “and I decide what we need to hear. I welcome input from a capable officer such as Commander Cresida.”
More objections were raised. Geary argued them down. More wishes were floated for Captain Falco’s opinion. Geary’s strongest allies belittled those, using the undeniable fact that Falco was still unfamiliar with the fleet’s circumstances. Geary finally held up a restraining hand. “A decision needs to be made. I have the responsibility of making it. The bottom line is this: I will take this fleet to Sancere because that offers our best hope for continued survival. And when we get there, we will inflict a serious defeat on the Syndics in the bargain and avenge Anelace, Baselard, Mace, and Cuirass.”
More than one commander looked unhappy, more than one looked to Numos for further argument, but a warning glance from Geary kept Numos silent this time. More importantly, the majority of the officers seemed not only willing to go along but convinced by Geary’s arguments. “That is all,” Geary concluded. “Orders to maneuver the fleet back toward the jump point we used to enter this system will go out within a few minutes.”
The crowd shrank within moments, leaving only Captain Desjani and the virtual presence of Captain Duellos. Desjani stood and smiled in a grim way. “Another victory, sir.”
“I think I’d rather fight the Syndics,” Geary admitted. “Please have Dauntless broadcast the change-of-course order. To be executed at,” he checked the readouts, “time two zero.”