Geary sent the message calling a fleet commanding officers conference in one hour, then left the bridge, noticing the watch-standers all doing their best to avoid attracting the attention of Captain Desjani where she sat scowling at her display. He paused for just a moment, recalling his own days as a junior officer, when reading the captain’s temper and steering as wide of that individual as necessary on bad days formed an important part of the standard routine no matter the ship or the captain. In the days when Geary had been a junior officer, the idea of open dissent against a fleet commander would have been thought insubordinate. A fleet captain conspiring against that commander to the extent of destroying Alliance warships would have been simply unthinkable. So much had been altered in the last century, driven by the stresses of an apparently unending war. But steering clear of a captain in a foul mood hadn’t changed in the hundred years he’d been in survival sleep. It probably hadn’t changed in a thousand years or more. No matter how much was different from the past, some traditions and practices withstood the stresses of time and events.
Not all of those traditions and practices were necessarily good or wise, but he still found the thought comforting.
ONE hour later he was in the conference room again, the atmosphere in the compartment as tense as it had ever been. Geary stood at the head of the table, trying not to look toward where Captain Kila’s image would appear, as the images of the fleet’s ship commanders popped into place, and the table and room appeared to expand to accommodate them.
Desjani entered the room, the only one besides Geary who was physically present, and took her seat next to him. She caught his eye and nodded, then fixed her gaze on the table surface. He could sense the tension in Desjani, like that of a great cat ready to spring but holding herself back by force of will. It was the same impression Desjani gave when preparing for a firing run against a Syndic warship, but this time her target was one of the Alliance fleet’s own officers.
To Geary’s surprise and gratitude, the image of Captain Duellos showed up next to that of Captain Cresida. Duellos’s uniform had been cleaned and patched up. Aside from the slight stiffness of his movements, it would have been hard to tell how much he had been through lately. The image of Co-President Rione appeared among the captains of the fleet’s ships from the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation. She also looked directly at Geary and nodded, though in her case the gesture also conveyed the message that the ambush was ready to spring. Rione’s eyes held a warning reminder, too. You’re a lousy actor and very bad at lying, Captain Geary, Rione had told him less than half an hour ago. You’ll be angry, but try to make that anger look like it’s directed at someone whose identity you don’t know. Don’t say anything about the first worm or speculations about where the worms have come from until you get the signals that the trap is ready. If you don’t talk about what we know, then you won’t be lying, and you won’t sound like you’re lying. There were worse flaws to have than an inability to lie well, he thought as he waited for everyone’s image to arrive at the conference. At least as long as he had Rione along to help him past places where he might otherwise have to lie. Geary imagined how the fleet’s officers would simply nod knowingly if they ever found out he needed a politician to provide advice on avoiding the truth. Colonel Carabali appeared as unruffled as ever, but she also took a moment to nod to Geary in apparent greeting, actually confirming that her Marines were ready.
The last officers arrived, most of them relatively junior commanding officers from the smallest and therefore most distant warships who had slightly misjudged the time delay for transmissions at the speed of light to cross between their ships and Dauntless. Now everyone sat silently as Geary stood up and began speaking in as controlled a voice as he could manage. “One of our heavy cruisers, Lorica, has been destroyed and her crew murdered by individuals whose political goals are more important to them than the lives of our fleet’s personnel.” Rione had suggested those exact words, linking the ones responsible for the loss of Lorica to the sort of politics the fleet scorned. “Dauntless narrowly avoided destruction as well.”
Captain Badaya slammed his palm onto the table before him, the meeting software obligingly adding the sound of the gesture as if Badaya had physically hit the table on Dauntless. “Backstabbing bastards!
How can anyone in this fleet with any knowledge of those responsible for this hold back?”
“I don’t know,” Geary replied, letting his eyes search the faces of every officer. He noticed that Kila looked around as well, with a perfectly calculated expression of righteous anger, a move that, Geary realized, kept her from having to meet his gaze. “This is the last chance for anyone here who knows anything. Tell us what you know, or you’ll face the same punishment as those who did it.”
No one answered.
“I know there are those who disagree with my decisions as commander of this fleet,” Geary added.
“Dissent is one thing. Murder and the destruction of Alliance warships is another. I believe I’ve given everyone adequate grounds to be certain that I will keep my word. Those who destroyed Lorica also surely destroyed the shuttle carrying Captain Casia and Commander Yin in Lakota Star System. Those officers were murdered, too, to keep them quiet. Anyone who knows anything about this should realize that their lives are in the hands of someone who will kill rather than risk exposure. You will be protected if you come forward now.”
More silence, longer this time.
Duellos looked like he was tasting something foul. “I increasingly suspect that whoever is behind all of this is operating under a cloak of anonymity. I cannot believe that if their identities were known to many of those who once supported them, that they would not be revealed now.”
“If someone could find a thread leading to them,” Captain Tulev objected, “then they could trace that thread back given time and determination no matter how many precautions had been taken.”
“Maybe that’s why Commander Gaes died on Lorica,” Captain Cresida interjected. “She went with Falco, so at one time she was tied in with those opposed to Captain Geary’s command of this fleet. She’d also acquitted herself loyally since that time, though. Maybe she used the contacts she knew of to find the ones behind all of this.” Cresida hadn’t been told that, but she was shrewd enough to connect the dots once Lorica was targeted for destruction.
Daring’s commanding officer shook his head. “It’s all speculation. We need hard data. We need evidence!”
“Do we?” Cresida asked. “The truth would come out in an interrogation room. I hereby volunteer to be questioned in an interrogation room about my knowledge of the worms that have been used against this fleet, and I urge all of my fellow commanding officers to do so as well.”
Captain Armus of Colossus frowned. “That’s a very big step to take. You’re indirectly questioning the honor of every officer in the fleet. If we agree to being interrogated, we move the line of what’s permissible against our fellow officers, even those who aren’t even remotely suspected of a crime. We move that line very, very far.”
A lot of the officers present nodded in agreement. Even Geary found himself reflexively rejecting Cresida’s idea. By establishing a precedent for broad interrogations of any officer, whether that individual was suspected of crimes or not, the cure might be worse than the illness represented by someone like Captain Kila.