FOURTEEN
CARABALI had left. Geary sat in his stateroom, alone, realizing he didn’t really have a choice, but still very reluctant to take such a risk.
A knock on his door caused him to scowl and look up.
Dr. Jasmine Cresida stood there, appearing unhappy to have had to make this visit, her attitude that of someone doing an unwelcome but necessary task.
“Come in,” Geary said, trying to smooth out his expression into something approaching welcoming. “What brings you here, Doctor?”
“You asked me to look into whether alien hypernet gates might be taken over and destructively collapsed,” Cresida said in a flat voice, having come only a couple of steps inside.
“Oh, yes.” Geary nodded apologetically to her. “I’m sorry. What did you find out?”
“Nothing definitive,” Cresida said. “There are two possible approaches that I thought of which, in theory, might allow it.”
“Can those approaches be blocked?”
“I don’t even know if they exist,” Cresida said, her voice growing sharper. “I can’t speculate on details when I don’t know if the general concepts are even valid.”
“Of course.”
“But,” Cresida added, “if species such as the Dancers and the enigmas have viewed hypernet gate technology as a means for nova-scale bombs for much longer than humanity has, they should have already identified and protected against any ways in which an enemy can use their weapons against them. The only way to confirm that is to discuss the matter with the Dancers. Charban thought I should clear that with you before we ask.”
Geary nodded again. “He’s right. As of now, General Julian can find out anything we talk to the Dancers about because of the duplicate transmitter/translator aboard Boundless. We need to regain control of Boundless before we ask those questions.”
“Regain control?” Dr. Cresida said, her voice suddenly gone extremely cold.
“Yes,” Geary said, meeting her gaze, which had turned hostile. “Without triggering fighting among the Alliance forces here. There may be a way to do that, but it will involve a lot of risk.”
“Are you worried some of your minions may die?”
He almost snapped back at her over that, but instead shook his head. “I always worry about whether people might die. My worry here is about what happens if the worst possibilities play out. About how many may die if I’m wrong, or if someone makes a mistake that can’t be taken back. I know you don’t like me and never will. That’s fine, because what you’re doing is so valuable not just to the Alliance but to humanity. I hope you will continue those efforts.”
“As long as you ask nicely. So, you have to make a decision, and if you’re wrong everything goes pear-shaped?”
“Pretty much.”
“Why do you think you wouldn’t be able to find a solution to that?”
He looked at her, judging what he should say, what he could say. He didn’t know what decided him, but it was probably her resemblance to her sister Jaylen. “Because if it goes that badly, I won’t be around to find a solution. Others will have to try to fix the mess I’m leaving for them.”
“I see. Why are you still considering it, then?”
“Because,” Geary said, “as risky as it is, it may be the only chance to start resolving this situation, to free Ambassador Rycerz and everyone else on Boundless, without triggering all-out violence. We can’t keep waiting indefinitely, because conditions aboard Boundless appear to be deteriorating. To prevent anyone dying on that ship, I may have to risk triggering the conflict I’m doing my best to avoid.”
Dr. Cresida gave Geary a speculative look, remaining silent for a moment before speaking in a different tone of voice. “You have always been candid with me. I will return the favor by being honest with you. Admiral, if I may paraphrase one of the greatest detectives in literary history, once you have eliminated all other options as worse, whatever option remains, no matter how unpleasant, must be the right one.”
He thought about that for a few seconds. “That’s true. That does sum up the scope of my choices, doesn’t it? Who was that detective?”
“Sherlock Holmes.”
“Holmes?” Geary surprised himself by smiling more. “That’s right. I remember now. The Hound. I love that story.”
“You’ve read The Hound of the Baskervilles?” Cresida said, staring at Geary as if he had suddenly grown a second head.
“Well, it was more than a century ago.”
“That still counts.” Dr. Cresida shook her head at him. “You’re very confusing, Admiral. Good luck.”
“Thank you.” He looked at the door to his stateroom after she had left. Whatever option remains, no matter how unpleasant . . . That really did say it all.
Geary touched his comm pad. “Captain Desjani, I need to see you in my stateroom.”
“YOU’RE . . .” Desjani struggled for control. “That is . . . With all due respect . . . Are you out of your mind?”
“There’s only one way to resolve the situation on Boundless without potentially triggering civil war between the Alliance forces in this star system,” Geary said. “Only Black Jack can do this, so I have to take that chance.”
“If you’re murdered by Webb’s fanatics it’ll all fall apart anyway!”
“No. It won’t.” Geary kept his voice calm. “I am leaving orders that if anything happens to me Captain Jane Geary is to assume command of all Alliance forces in this star system. With backing from you and Captain Duellos and the other senior officers in this fleet, Jane will be able to hold it all together and take any necessary actions to deal with General Julian and his followers.”
“Who suggested this?” Desjani demanded.
“General Carabali.”
“But—” Desjani covered her face with one hand, breathing in and out slowly. “Please forgive me for my unprofessional outburst, Admiral.”
“Of course.”
“But I still strongly advise against this course of action.”
“Your objection is noted for the record.” Geary had felt his own resolve wavering a bit, so he pushed on. “I’ll need a shuttle. Not one of Dauntless’s. I want to be able to approach Boundless without them guessing I’m aboard until it’s too late to block me. And an honor guard. Gunny Orvis, and seven more Marines as an honor guard. Dress uniforms. No weapons.”
“Understood, Admiral.” Desjani lowered her hand but avoided looking at him. “I’ll get it set up and notify you when the shuttle is ready to depart.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
She turned to go, but paused partway through the door. “Try not to die.”
“I’ll do my best.”
OVER a century ago, as a young lieutenant, Geary had ridden with a half-dozen Marines in a shuttle heading to intercept a merchant ship suspected of smuggling contraband. In an Alliance that hadn’t fought a significant war in decades, those Marines had carried only sidearms as weapons and had only been exposed to a handful of potentially dangerous situations in their careers. They had joked on the approach to the merchant ship, relaxed in the certainty that this was just one more routine search and they’d be back aboard their own ship in a few hours, eating dinner and looking forward to a decent night’s sleep.
It was funny, in a way that wasn’t really funny, to recall how nervous he’d been back then.
This time, Geary was accompanied by eight Marines from the detachment aboard Dauntless. All had seen, and survived, brutal combat situations. All but one of them had been wounded at least once. They’d worn battle armor in earnest too many times to count. They knew they were headed to confront heavily armed soldiers, but they themselves carried no weapons. Instead of battle armor, they wore dress uniforms. And instead of joking, they sat mostly silent, keeping their thoughts to themselves as the shuttle swooped upward toward Boundless.
The quiet in the main compartment of the shuttle was broken by a call from the pilots up front. “Admiral, Boundless is warning us off. Their shuttle dock isn’t opening.”
“Give me a few seconds,” Geary said, leaning toward the nearest comm pad. Blasting their way inside Boundless, or even breaking in as Marines might do in a typical boarding operation like that on the Fortuna, would be a very bad idea this time.
Seeing Gunnery Sergeant Orvis and the other Marines watching him intently, Geary gave them a tight-lipped smile. “Being fleet commander comes with certain perks,” he explained. “Including special override codes.” He was tapping the comm screen as he spoke. Finishing, he checked over the code before hitting the transmit command.
A moment later, the pilot called back again. “The shuttle dock is opening, Admiral. We still don’t have approach clearance, though.”
“Go ahead and enter the dock,” Geary ordered. “Notify Boundless that this shuttle is carrying me.” He tried to sound as if he wasn’t worried. Boundless did have point defense weapons installed, though. Would Colonel Webb think of those? Would he employ them against a shuttle he’d been told carried Admiral Geary? It seemed unlikely Webb would take that step, but it wasn’t impossible. So Geary sat with a calm expression and a crawling sensation inside as he wondered if the shuttle would be ripped apart as it made its final approach to Boundless’s dock.
“We’ve got a reception committee waiting,” the pilot warned.
“We see them,” Geary said. One of the displays was showing the view inside the dock, revealing six soldiers in battle armor, their weapons at the ready. One of the soldiers was unsuccessfully trying to wave off the shuttle.
The pilot brought the shuttle in to land, using a routine approach as Geary had ordered rather than a combat landing coming in fast and braking hard. “Should we drop the ramp, Admiral?”
No one had opened fire yet. Geary stood up slowly, feeling the tension around him climb. “Yes. Drop the ramp. Normal loading speed.”
In combat operations the ramp would slam down quickly to allow Marines to exit in a rush. But a fast-dropping ramp would look like an increased threat to the waiting soldiers. Instead, the ramp began lowering at the pace used in non-threat situations, slowly offering a direct view of the shuttle dock outside.
The six soldiers in full battle armor had taken up position to fire on anyone leaving the shuttle, and so were easily visible in what could be seen of Boundless’s shuttle dock beyond the shuttle ramp. All the soldiers’ weapons were leveled, aimed toward the shuttle.
The Marines with Geary had all stood up as well, automatically straightening their dress uniforms as they waited for orders, their eyes on Geary and the gunnery sergeant.
Geary had been able to choose to do this. All the Marines were supposedly volunteers, but he knew that meant they’d been told they were volunteering. They were here, unarmed, facing armed soldiers, knowing just how perilous this was. But they waited for orders, steady, the only outward signs of tension their quickened breathing and eyes both alert and worried. “There’s no one else I’d rather have with me right now,” Geary told them, meaning every word of it. Knowing they were watching him gave him the resolve to keep on with this even though his common sense was screaming at him to raise that ramp and run away. “Follow me.”
Gunnery Sergeant Orvis nodded to Geary. “We’ll be right behind you, sir. Admiral, I’ve always maintained that no sailor could ever be the equal of a Marine, let alone better than one. I guess after this I’ll have to make one exception to that rule, and buy you a beer next time we have liberty.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” Geary said, trying not to let the quivering in his guts sound in his voice.
Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, Geary walked slowly down the ramp, timing each step to ensure he didn’t rush, seeing the soldiers’ weapons shift slightly to aim directly at him. He heard the Marines lining up behind him in two rows, shoulder to shoulder, as an honor guard should, following him, trusting him.
He’d never realized just how long a shuttle ramp was.
Geary stepped off the bottom of the shuttle ramp, his feet touching the deck of Boundless’s shuttle dock.
The soldiers were about four meters away, faceless in their battle armor, their weapons pointed straight at him.
It took every bit of Geary’s courage and will to speak in the calm tones of someone who simply expected to be obeyed. “I’m Admiral Geary. Lower your weapons, soldiers. There are no enemies here.”
He heard the Marine honor guard behind him come to a halt, Gunny Orvis and the other seven Marines standing at attention on the ramp, the only variation from routine the way the Marines had their open hands turned toward the front so that it was clear they held no weapons.
Geary saw each of the soldiers’ weapons twitching nervously from one target to another, restlessly lining up on him, then one of the Marines, back to him, another Marine . . .
He deepened his voice a little, also raising its volume slightly. “Is there a problem? Who’s in charge here?”
After a very long moment, with the weapons of the soldiers still agitatedly shifting rapidly from one target to the next, the voice of one came out through the speaker on his armor. “Drop your . . .” The voice trailed off as the soldier realized the rote command to drop their weapons made no sense when Geary and the Marines had none.
It still heartened Geary, who was trying to maintain his calm, authoritative appearance despite the growing tension inside him. One wrong step and this could go badly wrong very quickly. But the leader of these soldiers had fallen back on routine, on the standard procedures in such a situation, and right now Geary believed that routine was his friend. Because routine meant responding to the orders of an admiral, and not firing on friendly forces.
He looked directly at the soldier who’d spoken. “Sergeant . . . ?”
The soldier’s weapon wavered a bit as he automatically straightened to attention. “Sergeant Hayden Quinn, sir.”
“Sergeant Quinn,” Geary repeated, smiling slightly. “Good. You can lower your weapons.”
“Um . . . Admiral . . . our orders . . .”
“Do you see any hostile forces before you, Sergeant?”
A long pause. “No, Admiral.”
“There’s been some miscommunication,” Geary said. “Confusion. None of that is your fault. I’m here to clear it up, and I give my word that no one who in good faith obeyed apparently legitimate orders has anything to fear.” He noticed the aim of another of the soldiers drifting away from the shuttle. “Who are you, soldier?”
“Corporal Riley Quinn, sir.” The voice sounded exactly like that of Sergeant Quinn.
The strangeness of it, his relief at not getting shot yet, prompted Geary to smile a bit more. “Are you and the sergeant related?”
“Yes, Admiral. We’re brothers.”
“Twins,” Sergeant Quinn said. “I’m two minutes older,” he added, as if feeling the need to explain.
“That explains why you’re the sergeant,” Geary said. One of the things he’d learned from Tanya Desjani was how jokes in the middle of tense situations would calm everyone down, get them thinking instead of reacting.
The soldiers all abruptly stiffened, their aim steadying again. Geary guessed that orders had come to them through their armor’s comm systems, most likely something along the lines of What are you idiots doing?
“Admiral,” Sergeant Quinn began, his voice strained, “we have orders to place you under arrest.”
“On what grounds?” Geary said, keeping his voice relaxed.
“I . . . I don’t know, Admiral.”
What was Colonel Webb doing? Probably on his way down here. Would it be wiser to wait, or try to force the issue before Webb arrived?
The need for that decision was preempted as Webb and five more soldiers, neither Webb nor the others in battle armor but all carrying weapons, burst onto the shuttle dock.
Geary heard some shuffling from the Marines behind him. “Steady, Marines,” he said in a low voice.
Webb came closer to Geary, staying out of the line of fire from the armored soldiers who’d greeted the shuttle. “What are you doing here?” Webb looked like hell, his face drawn with tension, blinking as if his eyes hurt.
“Excuse me, Colonel?” Geary said. The tension in the shuttle dock had rocketed upward once again. He could see the soldiers with Webb, see how strung out they looked, confirmation that what Sergeant Tyminska had told Gunny Orvis about them being on Up meds too long was true. Twitchy, their nerves on edge, their minds hyped beyond safe levels, those soldiers too were aiming their weapons toward Geary and his Marines.
One nervous finger tightening on one trigger, and he’d probably be dead before he knew what had happened. And this fleet would probably end up in exactly the brother-against-sister war that he’d most feared.
Routine was his friend. Habit was his friend. These soldiers were disciplined and skilled. They’d spent years following orders, doing their duty. He needed to have them focusing on those things.
Geary looked around, his expression growing disapproving. “Colonel Webb, this isn’t the reception I expect when visiting an Alliance ship. I expect better of Alliance soldiers, especially soldiers with the reputations and experience that yours have. You’re the best the Alliance has, aren’t you?” Geary demanded, letting his gaze rest on each soldier in turn. “Act like it. Lower your weapons, get into formation, and prepare for inspection.”
The command was so unexpected that every soldier simply gaped at Geary, even Webb too stunned to reply at first.
“Did I not speak clearly?” Geary said. “Move it, soldiers!”
The soldiers who’d arrived with Webb, probably having been awakened from their too-brief rest periods and probably even more mentally off-balance because of that, moved first, lining up shoulder to shoulder, the butts of their weapons on the deck.
Those in battle armor hesitated, then, at an order from Sergeant Quinn, also clomped into line, their weapons lowering.
Colonel Webb shook his head as if trying to settle into order thoughts that refused to unscramble. “Admiral, you don’t . . . you can’t . . .”
“Colonel,” Geary said, gesturing slightly toward the line of soldiers. “I’m waiting.”
“Yes, sir.” Webb straightened to attention, saluted, and turned to lead Geary toward the soldiers.
“Wait here,” Geary told Orvis, catching a glimpse of wide-eyed Marines watching him.
He followed Webb. Standing in front of the first soldier, Geary gave her a narrow-eyed look-over. “When was the last time this uniform was cleaned?”
“Five days ago, Admiral!” she responded, her eyes properly fixed straight ahead, but one of them twitching uncontrollably, showing a side effect of too many Up meds.
“That’s not acceptable,” Geary said. “Is there a problem with the ship’s laundry?”
“No, Admiral! Operational tempo did not permit time for laundry.”
Geary shook his head. “Colonel Webb, if you needed some extra forces on hand you should have let me know. Your people are the best, and I expect them to look it.”
“Yes . . . Admiral,” Colonel Webb said, looking as if were still trying to figure out what was happening.
Geary paused in front of the next soldier, recognizing a specialty badge. “You’re a hack and crack?” he asked, using the popular nickname for those trained to break into anything that could be broken into either electronically or physically.
“Yes, Admiral!” she replied.
“You should talk to General Carabali’s hack-and-crack teams,” Geary said. “You could probably give each other a lot of pointers from your experiences. We should set that up,” Geary told Webb. “Let me know if there are any problems getting that done.”
“Yes . . . Admiral.”
He noted a few uniform discrepancies on her, then moved to the third soldier, who clearly hadn’t shaved. “Came down here in a hurry, did you?” Geary asked.
“Yes, Admiral!” the soldier replied, his eyes worried but his face properly expressionless.
“Don’t let it happen again,” Geary said. “When was your weapon last maintenance checked?”
“Zero six hundred this morning, Admiral!”
“Good.” Geary commented on a couple more items on the soldier’s uniform before moving on.
He couldn’t do much in the way of inspecting those in battle armor, but he went through the motions, finally finishing the last. Counting Colonel Webb, there were twelve soldiers down here. That meant nine were elsewhere on Boundless, probably standing guard in places like the bridge and engineering control to ensure the ship’s crew didn’t try anything. “We need to talk, Colonel,” Geary said.
Webb, still trying to figure out what had happened, licked his lips. “Admiral, I have orders.”
“Who gives the orders in this fleet, Colonel? What do your orders assigning you to Ambassador Rycerz for her protection say about that?”
Webb hesitated. “We are assigned to the ambassador,” he finally said. “But those orders have been changed.”
“Have they? Who has authority to do that, Colonel? My orders came directly from the Senate. I have every reason to believe the new orders brought here did not come from the Senate.”
Webb’s face shifted as he struggled to reply. “The . . . the aliens . . .”
“Colonel, I’ve fought the enigmas and the Kicks, and Taon who attacked us, and I’ll fight any other alien species that poses a threat to the Alliance. Do you doubt my record? Do you doubt me?”
A long silence followed until a very low voice spoke. “He’s Black Jack.”
Geary looked that way, seeing Corporal Riley Quinn. “Yes, I am. And I will save the Alliance.” He looked down the line of soldiers. “But I can’t do it alone. Are you with me?” he said to the group, before looking directly at Colonel Webb again.
Webb stared at Geary. His hand came up in a rigidly correct salute. “Hell, yes, Admiral. If you’ll have me.”
“Hell, yes,” Geary said, deliberately echoing Webb. He slowly reached up to lay a comradely grip on Webb’s shoulder. “Your whole unit. Let’s go see the ambassador and get this straightened out. Your soldiers can stand down and return control of Boundless to her crew.”
Webb nodded, pointing to Sergeant Quinn. “Pass the word, Sergeant. Everyone stand down.” He paused, his face sagging with weariness. “Everyone get some rest.” Looking back at the shuttle, he bared his teeth in a tight grin. “The Marines are here, so we can all relax now, right?”
Webb’s soldiers laughed, relief flowing off them in a wave so strong even the waiting Marines smiled in response. “Stand easy, Gunny,” Geary called to the Marines. “I’ll be back after I talk to the ambassador and Captain Matson.”
As Webb led Geary out of the shuttle dock, he shook his head. “Admiral, you’re either the craziest man I’ve ever met, or you really are blessed by the living stars. Either way, I guess I should be on your good side.”
“You need some rest, too, Colonel,” Geary said. “What I told Sergeant Quinn is true of you as well. Anyone following in good faith orders they believed to be legitimate will not face punishment.”
“It’s my job to know what to do,” Webb said, looking unhappy. “What’s the right thing to do.”
“That’s not ever an easy thing,” Geary said.
“Tell me something, Admiral. Were you scared in there?”
Sometimes lies were necessary for even the most honorable. “Why should I have been scared around Alliance soldiers, Colonel? I knew I had nothing to fear from those who believed in the Alliance as much as I do.”
Maybe Webb believed him. Maybe not. But Webb nodded and smiled tightly and led the way to where Ambassador Rycerz had been under confinement in her stateroom.
AMBASSADOR Rycerz proved more difficult to pacify than Colonel Webb and his soldiers. “How can I possibly trust them again?” she demanded. “They should all be disarmed and under arrest! I want Marines guarding me!”
The fact that she had every right to feel that way didn’t make it easier for Geary to convince her otherwise. “The example we set here is critical to resolving this situation.”
“What kind of example is it to preemptively pardon soldiers who held me at gunpoint?” Rycerz said, glowering at him. She’d left her stateroom, where she’d been confined for days, as soon as the guard departed. In her office, she sat at her desk, constantly looking about and checking things to see what might have been messed with while she and her staff were unable to come here.
Geary pointed outward. “We’ve got a bunch of warships out there, crewed by people who thought they had to follow General Julian’s orders. Any of them who want to shift allegiance now are afraid to surrender to my authority because they think if they do, they’ll be charged with all sorts of crimes, including treason on the battlefield. We have to demonstrate to them that it is a safe option to come over to me, that they can abandon Julian without earning themselves certain imprisonment, dishonor, and likely death sentences. Colonel Webb’s soldiers are the example everyone will be looking to. How do we handle them? That’s why I risked my life coming to this ship unarmed, because any armed subjugation of Webb’s soldiers would’ve confirmed the fears of everyone else who’s listened to Julian.”
Rycerz flexed her hand as if wanting to hit someone or something. “So we just let them get away with kidnapping me and my staff, and pirating control of this ship from its lawful captain and crew? That’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes,” Geary said, not trying to sugarcoat the deal. “If we punish them, imprison them, there’s no telling how many others will die. Because our only chance to convince the crews of those warships to end this peacefully is if they feel safe to do so. Otherwise, they will fight out of despair and a certainty they have no other option. And we’ll probably have thousands of dead as a result, plus setting the awful example of Alliance military forces firing on each other for the first time in the history of the Alliance. That’s not a price I want to pay for the satisfaction of revenge on Colonel Webb and his soldiers.”
“Don’t put it in terms of personal satisfaction!” Ambassador Rycerz snapped angrily. “You know that’s not what’s involved. This is about respecting the rule of law, of following the regulations your fleet holds so dear.”
Geary made a deliberately vague gesture. “That is exactly the argument used by those who claimed that we had no choice but to obey the orders General Julian brought with him. This is a situation that requires us to use our personal judgment.”
“By forgiving soldiers who turned their weapons on civilian authority?”
“Yes,” Geary said. “I’ll remind you that there are those who claim I am defying civilian authority. Of course, I’m an admiral. Even if I wasn’t Black Jack I’d probably get off for that with a slap on the wrist and at worst have to retire. But Webb’s soldiers, lower-ranked enlisted, are expected to obey orders without question, and expect to be severely punished if they make a mistake when doing so. Put yourself in their place, Ambassador. What would you have done? I’ve already confirmed with Captain Matson that none of the soldiers inflicted injuries on any of the crew.”
“No physical injuries,” Rycerz pointed out. “Being menaced with weapons inflicts other kinds of injuries. Admiral, the crew of this ship is not going to forgive and forget. One way or another we need to get Colonel Webb and his soldiers off this ship, and replace them with a security force that can be trusted.”
He didn’t have a simple, quick answer to that, because he knew it was true. “It can’t be done immediately. That would be widely perceived as punishment and lack of trust. Yes, I know it would be perceived that way because that’s what it would be. I will work to identify some role, some assignment, I can transfer Webb and his people to that will be of sufficient importance that it won’t be perceived as exile. That will take time.”
“And in the meanwhile we’re just supposed to trust them?”
“Ambassador, this is about symbolism, about the perceptions our actions will create,” Geary said. “You of all people should understand the importance of that.”
She snorted out an angry breath. “Using the arts of diplomacy against me? That’s a low blow, Admiral. Tell me this. Why are you working to convince me? This is a security matter. You could be simply telling me what you were going to do and informing me that I had no choice but to go along. And you would be legally within your command authority to do so. Why aren’t you doing that?”
He took a moment to think through his reply. “Because when it comes to symbolism, I think it is critically important that we be seen as working together. That I be seen as consulting with you, and us making decisions jointly. If I were to be seen as ordering you around, it would reinforce the sort of actions that General Julian claims are required by the orders he brought. It would make it seem that I was overriding Alliance civil authorities.”
Ambassador Rycerz looked away from him, drumming her fingers on her desk. After several seconds, she turned her head to look at him again. “Clarify one thing for me. You want these soldiers forgiven for following orders, and you say they are afraid of being prosecuted for following orders. I thought the military expected its people to always follow orders.”
“It does,” Geary said. “The military demands that its members follow orders. Except when they shouldn’t. It all sounds simple. But it’s not.”
“As with you refusing General Julian’s orders.”
“Partly,” Geary said, leaning back with a sigh. “Article 16 exists even though I’ve never met an officer who liked it. And no one is ever supposed to use it. But the founders of the Alliance put it in there for a reason. I believe a situation like this is such a reason.”
Rycerz’s sigh was much louder than Geary’s. “Are you guaranteeing that this example, the way we treat Webb and his soldiers, will succeed in ending this confrontation peacefully?”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Yes.” She actually smiled, though in a bitter way. “I wanted to see if you’d be honest about that. As soon as possible, Admiral. Are we clear on that? Get Webb and his soldiers off this ship as soon as you can make it happen without making it obvious no one aboard this ship trusts them anymore.”
“You have my word,” Geary said, feeling himself relax again. He had wondered if Rycerz would agree, and what sort of stalling he might have to do if she’d insisted on Webb being shipped off immediately.
“Now.” Rycerz leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk, her eyes fixed on Geary. “Can you do the same thing on each of Julian’s ships that you did here?”
His stomach felt hollow at the thought. “No,” Geary said quickly. “Perhaps if I could get aboard them, I could talk enough of the officers and crews around, but I’d never make it. It would only take one officer, such as Captain Rogov, using automated fire control and weapons to destroy my shuttle before it reached any of those ships. The most important thing now is to slowly move Boundless deeper within the formation, out of easy range of Captain Rogov’s ships. I’m going to have Captain Matson coordinate that movement with Captain Armus, whose battleships are the closest to Boundless in the formation. Ambassador, this situation remains balanced on a knife-edge. Please do not take any action, make any statements, without discussing them with me first. The wrong thing could be the match that sets off the explosion we need to avoid if at all possible.”
TAKING over Boundless might prove to have been the easiest part, Geary thought. Moving the ship far enough from Rogov’s ships to take it out of immediate danger without triggering impulsive action by Rogov was going to be a delicate operation.
Especially when Captain Matson was among those trying to throw a lit match into the combustible situation.
“Not on my bridge,” Matson growled at Geary. “I won’t have him up here.”
Geary matched Matson glare for glare. “It is vital that Colonel Webb be shown up here, free and armed with his weapons, telling all of Rogov’s ships that this ship was not retaken by force, and that none of Webb’s soldiers have been harmed or confined.”
“I don’t care what you consider vital!”
When he wanted to, Geary could look every inch an admiral. “You’d better care,” he said, his voice a low growl. “What’s more important to you, Captain? That wave of outrage you’re surfing, or the safety of this ship and everyone aboard her?”
Matson held Geary’s gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes. “I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it. You can hate every minute of it, and tell anyone you want. After this is over. Right now, we have to save this ship.”
“All right. Under protest,” Captain Matson added.
“I need a comm relay through Dauntless, making it appear I’m transmitting from that ship,” Geary said. “And a broadcast transmission set up for Colonel Webb. I want you in the picture with Webb. You don’t have to smile. You do have to look like you are in command and working with Webb.”
“I can do that. Why don’t you want them to know you’re on Boundless?”
“It might make this ship look like entirely too attractive a target,” Geary said.
“Captain?” One of the watch standers on the bridge of Boundless was looking at Matson. “We’re getting another message from that battleship demanding to know who was aboard that shuttle.”
“Tell them it was delivering some necessary parts,” Matson said.
A few moments later, the watch stander called out again. “They want Colonel Webb to confirm that in person.”
Matson made a face. “It seems you were right, Admiral.”
Webb, already summoned by Geary, came onto the bridge, looking about warily. “What do you need, Admiral?”
Geary gestured toward the communications controls. “First off, you need to tell them you’re okay and that the shuttle that landed didn’t contain any dangerous material.”
“That’s technically true,” Webb mumbled. Walking to the controls, appearing to be unaware of the gazes of the civilian crew, he keyed the transmitter. “Implacable, this is Colonel Webb. We’re all right.”
“What was on that shuttle? Why did you let it land?”
“Parts,” Captain Matson said.
“The shuttle carried some things we needed,” Webb told Implacable. “Everything aboard is fine now.”
“From now on coordinate things like that with us beforehand! Do you understand?”
Webb smiled humorlessly. “I understand. Webb, out.”
“Your relay is ready, Admiral,” Matson said.
“Thank you,” Geary said. “Captain Desjani?”
Her image gazed at him. “Admiral Geary. I see you’re not dead.”
“Not yet. Patch me through to Armus.”
“Done.”
Captain Armus’s image smiled at Geary. “My ships are ready, Admiral. Once Boundless begins moving we will slowly converge toward blocking positions between her and Rogov’s ships. It will not look like a chase or an attempted intercept.”
“Thank you, Captain. The moment Boundless starts maneuvering you are free to maneuver as well. Geary, out.”
Captain Matson shook his head. “Why would they attack us? So what if Boundless is no longer under their control? We’re not a warship.”
“It’s the symbolism, Captain,” Geary said. “They’ll have lost control of the only ship they managed to take over. We’ll have regained control. That’s a loss for General Julian no matter how it’s viewed, and Julian isn’t the sort to easily accept even a minor loss. Taking Boundless and silencing the ambassador was also the only one of their objectives that they’d succeeded in carrying out. That success is now going to be reversed. Win-win for us, lose-lose for Julian and Rogov. Attacking us as a result would be a dangerous overreaction, but from Julian’s record we have to assume he might try it to salve his pride.”
“You’re moving four battleships into position to block an attack?” Matson said. “That should deter any attack.”
“It should,” Geary said. He turned back to the comm controls. “Dauntless, give me a secure transmission to the fleet. All units, this is Admiral Geary. Boundless is once again under our control, without any boarding operation or casualties. We are going to maneuver Boundless deeper into our formation, an action which could trigger an impulsive attack by some of General Julian’s ships. Do not strengthen your own shields, do not power up weapons. We will not take the first aggressive steps. But be prepared to rapidly reach maximum defensive readiness on very short notice if General Julian decides to attack ships loyal to the Alliance. Geary, out.”
Webb gave Geary a raised eyebrow. “Wasn’t what you did technically a boarding action, Admiral?”
“I came aboard for a surprise personnel inspection,” Geary said.
“My mistake,” Webb said, his grin exposing his canines.
“Captain Matson, are you ready?”
Matson nodded, looking extremely unhappy. But he smoothed out his expression, changing it to a blandly calm, nothing-out-of-the-ordinary look, before walking to stand next to Colonel Webb.
Webb nodded to Matson, his own discomfort clear, but then also changed his look to that of someone confident and in control. “All Alliance forces, this is Colonel Webb aboard the Boundless. I am notifying everyone that myself and my unit are responding to the orders of Admiral Geary. Boundless is once again under the control of Captain Matson and the civilian crew. There has not been any action. No one has been harmed. As you can see I remain armed and free, as do my soldiers. Admiral Geary has expressed his confidence in us. We will protect this ship, and all of the Alliance citizens aboard it, in accordance with orders issued by Admiral Geary. I freely urge all of my fellow officers on other ships, and all of the enlisted with them, to do the same. To the honor of our ancestors. Webb, out.”
Geary gestured to Matson. “Let’s get moving.”
Matson nodded. “Lauren,” he called to one of the crew. “Get us going. Make it as gentle as if there was a diplomatic banquet underway and we didn’t want any wine to spill.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Thrusters fired to shift Boundless onto a slightly different heading, then the main propulsion lit off at so low a setting that Geary had to check nearby displays to confirm that the ship was very slowly being nudged onto a new vector, moving away from the ships controlled by Captain Rogov, and deeper in among Geary’s fleet.
Alerts flashed on the same displays, showing that the battleships Colossus, Encroach, Redoubtable, and Spartan had also begun maneuvering. Spread out behind and to all sides of Boundless’s original position, the four battleships were converging, easing into new positions that would form a diamond between Boundless and Rogov’s ships.
“When will we know if we’re safe?” Matson asked Geary, his eyes on the displays as he tracked the relative movements of all the nearby ships.
“If nothing happens within the next few minutes—” Geary began.
More alerts flashed.
Thrusters were firing on Renown, Intrepid, Invincible, and Fearless. Rogov’s battle cruisers were about to move.