Dreadnaught

“I have no confidence that the fleet will accept those orders, Senator!” Why couldn’t they understand? “I know that you’re aware of sentiments in the fleet. You must be able to see that something like this crosses the line, will make too many officers believe that now they must do something. Yes, every man and woman court-martialed on those charges should be exonerated, but very few of them will trust that the right and proper outcome will occur. They will regard these charges as attempts to smear their honor beyond redemption before they are handed over to kangaroo courts!”

“But you’re asking us to circumvent both military authority and the military justice system? How is that supposed to build respect for authority and the law?”

Suva chimed in again, her voice cold. “How is having the government give in to demands from military officers a means to prevent the military from controlling the government? Are you proposing that we win by surrendering?”

Sakai shook his head. “It is a legitimate question, but Admiral Geary’s honor should not be questioned.”

“I agree,” Navarro said. “In light of what Admiral Geary has done, and what he has not done, it would be improper to doubt his word. But . . . this matter is not one in which we can take action. Your military superiors have made their decisions, our intervention in the military justice process at this point would be improper, and you will obey orders as honor demands.” Despite his calm tone, Geary thought he could sense an undercurrent of tension, of fear, in the senator. “You, Admiral, will tell the fleet’s officers to also obey orders and to trust in the integrity of the system. That course of action is the only salvation for the Alliance in the long run.”

Navarro’s words were true, but . . . they ignored the short-term danger. Geary knew this decision was wrong. He knew that if the senators did not act, disaster was a certainty. But they would not act on their own.

For months, he had feared reaching this point, ever since Rione had convinced him that he had the power to defy the civilian leadership of the Alliance. Why would he ever consider such a thing? Such defiance had been unthinkable to him a century ago, but now he could see every alternative flaming out, see that precipice of defiance approaching, had no idea what lay at the bottom, and could no more alter his course than could a ship trapped too deeply within the gravity well of a dead star.

Where did honor lie? What would be best for the people who trusted him and for the Alliance? “Sir, I must once again emphasize in the strongest possible terms that the fleet will not simply accept this kind of action.”

“They will if Admiral Geary tells them to.”

“I do not have confidence that is the case, sir, nor do I feel comfortable endorsing such actions.”

“Nonetheless,” Navarro insisted, “you have your orders and will obey them.” Outwardly, he seemed irritated by Geary’s persistence. Yet the subliminal signs of nervousness were more obvious as the senator spoke with apparent resolve. “We cannot violate your fleet regulations or the rule of law in the name of justice.”

It sounded right and reasonable, but it also ignored reality. In this case, the rule of law was being used for injustice. But, technically, that didn’t excuse him from his own obligation to do as ordered.

Geary took a slow count inside to steady himself. “Can we get an update of events outside this room, sir? Are any inputs allowed?” He knew what the answer was supposed to be but had already learned how many things that weren’t supposed to be had a way of being so.

Navarro frowned, looking toward Sakai, then Suva. “We don’t have . . . Can we manage a brief one-way feed?”

“A microburst of incoming information will still be entirely too hazardous,” Suva replied. She had been looking at Geary with an increasingly unyielding expression. “I don’t know what the purpose of that would be, in any case.”

“I think it’s important for us to know what the fleet is doing as we speak,” Geary replied. “Despite my orders to them to remain in position.”

Sakai spoke. “I believe this would be wise. My experience with Admiral Geary is that if he says we should know this, we should listen.”

“Black Jack—” Suva began.

“Is not a god and knows he is not a god,” Sakai broke in. “He knows there are limitations on his abilities. We should not assume that what he wants is inevitable.”

Navarro stared at Geary, then at Sakai, some unspoken message passing between the two senators in that gaze. “All right. Get us an update and a download of recent transmissions,” Senator Navarro said to Suva, who glowered at her data unit as she rapidly tapped in some commands.