“If so,” Captain Armus noted, leaning forward, his face and voice hard, “and I agree with Captain Tulev that it
is
so, then simply relieving Captain Casia and Commander Yin of command falls far short of the punishment expected for such acts.”
“Shoot the cowards,” someone muttered.
Noise erupted as everyone began shouting, many seconding the suggestion, others protesting.
Geary tapped the control that let him silence everyone, one of the best features of the conferencing software in his opinion, then waited a few moments for attention to return to him.
“I am aware that fleet regulations permit me to order death by firing squad on the battlefield for any officer who clearly displays cowardice before the enemy.” He looked to Casia again and was surprised that Casia met his eyes even though fear was apparent on the other officer’s face. He felt a grudging measure of respect for Casia that the man hadn’t collapsed.
“Fleet regulations
require
a firing squad,” said Captain Kila, the commanding officer of
Inspire
.
Why had she chosen now finally to speak up at a fleet conference?
Whatever the reason, she had challenged him, trying to force Geary to take an action he didn’t want to take. So he shook his head. “That’s incorrect.”
Kila seemed not hostile but puzzled. “The regulation in question is clear and does not allow exception.” Heads nodded around the table. Commander Yin appeared ready to pass out.
Geary shook his head again. “Surely every fleet officer is still familiar with standing fleet regulation thirty-two? ‘In any situation, a fleet commander is expected to exercise independent judgment and take necessary and appropriate action regardless of the letter of preceding regulations, as long as such action does not violate Alliance law or the fleet commander’s oath to defend the Alliance against all enemies foreign and internal.’ ”
“But was that intended to apply in cases like this?” Captain Armus asked.
“I assure you it was.” Geary looked around the table again. “That fleet regulation was adopted about one hundred and ten years ago. I was a lieutenant, and required to attend briefings by the officers who had drawn up the new regulations. ”
Captain Kila had been about to speak again but hastily subsided.
To Geary’s surprise, Cresida spoke up. “Sir, I accept that you have the right to deviate from regulations in this case, but I don’t understand why. Why show mercy to officers whose failures contributed to the loss of other ships? If they’d supported
Warrior
and
Majestic
, both of those ships might have survived this battle, to say nothing of the cruisers and destroyers lost defending the auxiliaries.”
It was a fair enough question. “To put it bluntly, Captain Cresida, I chose not to order a field execution of those two officers because I wasn’t feeling merciful.”
That brought looks of surprise and bafflement, including from Cresida. “You were
not
feeling merciful?”
“No.” Geary looked toward Casia and Yin. “Sending these two officers to the arms of their ancestors would end their suffering in this world. As long as they live, they’ll have to face some of the officers and sailors they failed. Officers and sailors who know what they did. Every living moment they’ll have to face those who know they chose cowardice.”
A long silence followed before Tulev spoke again. “Are you certain, Captain Geary, that these two officers will feel that scorn and contempt as harshly as you and I? Will they not simply be grateful that their lives have not been given either in the line of duty or as punishment for their failures? ”
Another fair question. Geary looked again to where Casia was glaring at him, his eyes haunted, and Yin was almost shaking as she avoided everyone else’s eyes. “Do they look grateful, Captain Tulev?”
Armus frowned at the two. “I suggest they be given the right to appeal, Captain Geary. I’d like to hear what they want.”
“That’s a reasonable request, Captain Armus, and in light of your service, I have no trouble granting it.” Armus had been a pain in the butt for Geary more than once, but in battle he’d fought well and with honor. Now Armus responded to Geary’s words with ill-concealed satisfaction as Geary turned to Casia. “Well?” he asked. “What do you feel is an appropriate punishment?”
Casia looked around the table, straightening himself, then back at Geary. “I demand a fleet officer’s death. You call me coward. I see agreement in many of my comrades’ eyes. I’ll prove you all wrong when I face the firing squad.”
Another surprise. Geary examined the other officers, seeing approval on their faces. They wanted this.
He looked down for a moment, wondering why it was so hard to make a decision that regulations, honor, and the fleet’s officers all agreed was right. He had ordered this fleet into action numerous times, sending ships into combat where death was a constant possibility.
Twelve sailors had died aboard
Dauntless
alone in the last battle. By his orders. Yet that was a far different thing than this, deliberately to order an officer to die.
Geary looked up again. Casia was waiting, his eyes pleading now.
Let me die with honor.
“Very well.” Geary nodded slowly. “Your request is granted, Captain Casia. I will approve execution by firing squad.”
Casia’s mouth twitched into a ghastly smile. “In Lakota. I want it done before the fleet leaves Lakota.”
“Very well,” Geary repeated. “Colonel Carabali, please canvass your Marines for volunteers for the firing squad.” He took a deep breath, then fixed his gaze on Commander Yin. “Commander, do you also wish to appeal?”
He thought she might break down completely, but Yin suddenly leaped to her feet. “I was following orders!” she shouted.
A moment of baffled silence followed. “Not my orders,” Geary finally stated.
“You are not competent to command this fleet!” Yin answered, her eyes wide. “You’re only a figurehead for those using you against the Alliance! They want to bring you home with all of these victories to your ‘credit’ and install you as a dictator! You and your . . . your female companion! ”
It had been a little while since the last attack on Co-President Rione, so Geary wasn’t surprised that Yin was dragging her into this. But then he realized that everyone in the conference was either looking at or obviously not looking at Captain Desjani. In turn, Desjani had her eyes fixed on Yin. If Desjani’s eyes had been hell-lance batteries, there would have been nothing left of Commander Yin but drifting ash.
The rumors of his being involved with Desjani clearly hadn’t died. There wasn’t any good way to address those now, however. Geary focused instead on the rest of Yin’s accusation. He’d been assuming that those opposed to his command of the fleet had been motivated primarily by personal ambition or personal dislike or distrust. Instead, if Yin’s words were to be trusted, at least some of them were motivated by fear that Geary or those backing him intended to overthrow the government of the Alliance. Those enemies might be working against him for reasons he could respect.
He was still thinking that through when Captain Duellos spoke sharply. “Commander Yin, whose orders were you following if not Captain Geary’s?”
She wavered, gulped once, then answered unsteadily. “Captain Numos.”
“Captain Numos is under arrest,” Duellos observed. “He is not able to issue orders. You know that.”
“I know that the arrest and all orders pertaining to it were themselves unlawful!”
Commander Neeson of
Implacable
spoke in a puzzled voice. “Does the charge of cowardice before the enemy stand if Commander Yin claims to have been following orders she believed to be legitimate?”
“She knew they weren’t legitimate,” Captain Badaya of
Illustrious
argued. “Commander Yin had to know that.”
“But if she’s saying she avoided action for that reason, it’s not the same as cowardice. Or is it?”
Neeson appeared frustrated now.
Geary rapped one fist on the table to draw Commander Yin’s attention again. “Commander, I understand you to be claiming that you avoided engaging the enemy in accordance with orders from Captain Numos. Are you denying the charge of cowardice?”
Yin visibly quivered, but choked out one word. “Yes.”
Tulev shook his head. “That still amounts to disobedience of orders in the face of the enemy, which is also a battlefield execution offense.”
Low conversations broke out all along the table, officers debating the issue. Geary thought about it himself for a moment. “Commander Yin, there are issues here that don’t have simple answers.
I am hesitant to order the execution of an officer in circumstances under which she may have thought her actions justified.” Everyone was listening intently. “Nonetheless, by your own admission you have violated orders from me, not only on the battlefield but also in conferring with Captain Numos. That alone is more than adequate grounds for relieving you of command.
However, I will not unilaterally order the execution of an officer who claims to have believed her behavior was required by duty. You will be held under arrest, Commander Yin, until such time as this fleet returns to Alliance space, there to have proper charges lodged against you in a court-martial in which you can defend your actions and receive such justice as is considered appropriate by the judgment of your peers.”
No one called out objections. Captain Armus frowned, then nodded unenthusiastically.
Commander Yin made to sit down again, but it looked more like she fell into her seat as her legs gave way.
Geary turned back to Captain Casia. “Captain, were your actions in command of
Conqueror
in the last battle also the result of following orders from someone other than the acting fleet commander?”
Casia hesitated, then shook his head roughly. “No one is responsible for my actions but me.”
Why did Casia have to display admirable behavior now? “All right, then. Colonel Carabali, please instruct your Marines on
Conqueror
and
Orion
to take Captain Casia and Commander Yin into custody and prepare them for transfer to
Illustrious
. Captain Casia, Commander Yin, please leave this conference.”
Casia took a moment to glare around in defiance, then reached for the controls at his location and disappeared. Commander Yin, her hand visibly shaking, followed suit quickly.
After that, discussing movements of the fleet seemed anticlimactic. Geary brought up the star display, a three-dimensional image of nearby space hovering over the table. “We’re going to take advantage of our victory here to continue toward Alliance space. Our next objective will be Branwyn. I don’t expect to encounter any resistance there, but we’ll be prepared for mines at the jump exit and a possible Syndic delaying force.” He pointed onward, to a dim red star a few light-years from Branwyn. “After that, we head for Wendig. That star system is supposed to be totally abandoned. Unless something unexpected happens in Wendig, we’ll then continue on to Cavalos.”
“Why not Sortes?” Captain Armus asked.
Geary indicated the star system in question. “Because it has a Syndic hypernet gate. We’ve inflicted serious losses on the Syndics at Kaliban and since, but we’re low on a lot of supplies and many of our ships have sustained damage. I’d prefer to avoid another major battle until our auxiliaries have had time to manufacture all of the fuel cells, expendable weapons, and replacement parts they can using the raw materials we’ve acquired here, and until our warships have had time to repair as much damage as possible.”
“But we can still try to use that hypernet gate to get home,” Armus argued. Apparently Geary’s earlier praise wasn’t going to incline Armus to accept Geary’s plans quietly.
“I believe, Captain Armus,” Geary stated patiently, “that the Syndics will ensure that they have sufficient means on hand at that hypernet gate to destroy it before we could reach it.”
“It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” No one answered him, causing Armus to frown and look around impatiently. “We easily survived the collapse of the hypernet gate in this star system.”
“We were very, very lucky,” Captain Cresida replied. “Next time, every ship in this fleet might be destroyed.”
Duellos nodded. “Not to mention what the gate collapse did to this star system. I won’t speak for anyone else, but I have enough on my conscience as it is.”
“Will the Syndics follow orders to destroy another gate after what happened here?” Commander Neeson asked.
“I would think that would depend on whether they hear what happened at Lakota,” Duellos speculated. “And whether they believe it. Some surviving Syndic civilian ships are already headed for jump points to spread the news and ask for help, but we have to assume that the Syndic leadership will attempt to downplay the disaster here, censor the news to the maximum extent possible, and to the degree it admits something happened, blame it on our actions.”
“They’ve shown us a weapon,” Captain Kila spoke again. “We can still use it. If we send out detachments to destroy hypernet gates in every Syndic star system with them that we pass near, we can—”
“We can
die
,” Captain Tulev interrupted. “You saw what happened to the Syndic warships that destroyed the hypernet gate in this star system. How many suicide missions do we launch until we run out of ships?”
“We ask for volunteers,” Kila noted calmly. “This is an unprecedented opportunity to inflict incalculable damage on the Syndicate Worlds.”
“Damage?” Commander Landis of
Valiant
shook his head. “I want those Syndic bastards to suffer as much as anyone, but wiping out star systems at one blow?”
“You’ve bombarded Syndic worlds,” Captain Armus pointed out.
“Yes, I have,” Landis agreed. “But this was different. I felt sick watching it, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’ve fought damned hard for the Alliance. I’ll keep fighting for it as long and as hard as I have to. But I don’t want to see that happen to any more habitable worlds, theirs or ours.”
Kila’s lips bent upward in a brief smile. “That’s all right, Commander. I’m sure we won’t have trouble finding enough volunteers.”