Were you planning on murdering your prisoners, Colonel? “I don’t know what the standard procedure has been regarding prisoners.”
Carabali’s eyes narrowed. “Standard procedure has been that we turn them over to the fleet, sir.” Everything in her tone and posture clearly communicated a further message to Geary. I’m certain you know what the fleet does with them once they’re out of our hands.
The exchange brought Geary’s temper rising again. How dare she be holier than thou about this? It seems the Marines kept from being directly involved in killing prisoners by looking the other way. That’s not exactly the most virtuous of actions. Though at least they kept their own hands clean. I have to give them credit for that much. But all he said was, “That’s changed. You will maintain responsibility for the prisoners and make arrangements to ensure the prisoners are confined in an area with adequate life support and the means to call for rescue once we depart.”
Carabali’s expression shifted. “I understood the base was to be totally destroyed, sir.”
“Sufficient living space, food, water, and life support to keep the prisoners alive until rescued will be kept intact, along with one primary and one backup means of basic communications with the inhabited world in this system.” It was so easy for Geary to reel off the requirements. Everyone had known them once. Every officer had been required to know them. And to follow them. “The prisoners will be kept under guard and treated in accordance with the laws of war until we depart. Are there any questions?”
Carabali was watching Geary as if studying him. “I understand these orders are to me, personally? That they cannot be overridden by any other fleet officer without your concurrence?”
“Yes, Colonel. I have every confidence that you will faithfully execute the spirit as well as the letter of my orders.”
“Thank you, Captain Geary. I understand and will obey.” Carabali rendered a precise salute, then the image blanked out.
Geary leaned back, rubbing his eyes, then looked toward Desjani again. “Thank you, Captain Desjani.”
“I just did my duty, sir.” Desjani was looking away, refusing to meet Geary’s eye.
Geary looked around the bridge, seeing the other officers and sailors also finding anything else to stare at rather than look him in the face. “Captain Desjani-”
“Standard procedure,” she interrupted in a low voice.
Geary stopped and took a deep breath. “How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Official?”
This time Desjani paused, then shook her head, still not looking his way. “Never official. Never in writing. Just understood.”
So you all knew it wasn’t right. Couldn’t be right. Or you’d have written it down.
But as long as you didn’t write it down, you could pretend it really was okay. Just unwritten.
Desjani spoke again, her voice thin. “We heard your reaction, Captain Geary. We saw your reaction. How could we have let this happen? We’ve dishonored our ancestors, haven’t we? We’ve dishonored you.”
Even though Desjani was still avoiding his gaze, Geary found himself looking away from her. They did. They’ve done something horrible. They’re good people, and they’ve been doing something horrible. What do I do? “Captain Desjani…all of you…your past actions are between you and your own ancestors. Ask them for forgiveness, not me. I wish…I wish to remind you all that someday we will be judged for our actions. I will not judge you. I don’t have that right. But I’ll not permit dishonorable actions by forces under my command. I’ll not permit some of the finest officers and enlisted personnel I’ve ever met to sully their own service. And you are fine officers who command fine sailors. Sailors in the Alliance fleet. All of us are, together. There are things we don’t do. From this moment forth, let us all ensure our every action reflects well on us and our ancestors. Let us live to the highest standards, lest we win this war only to find ourselves staring in the mirror at the face of our late enemy.”
A murmur of replies followed. Geary looked around again, and this time everyone met his gaze. It was a start.
For the first time, he wondered if missing the last century had actually been a blessing of sorts.
THE conference room once more appeared to be occupied by the apparently endless table with every commanding officer in the fleet seated along it, even though Geary knew only Captain Desjani was actually here in person with him. Right now the images of the other ship commanders were staring at him with expressions that ran the full gamut from faithful to hostile, with plenty of surprise thrown in for good measure. “Kaliban?” the harsh voice of Captain Faresa demanded. She made a dismissive gesture toward the navigational display of local stars that floated above the table. “You actually want us to jump to Kaliban?”
Geary nodded, tamping down his temper. It had gotten to the point where even thinking about Captain Faresa, or Captain Numos for that matter, made him angry. He couldn’t afford that kind of distraction. Besides, it was unprofessional, and he couldn’t demand professionalism from others if he didn’t try his best to practice it himself. “I explained my reasons.”
Captain Numos shook his head in a way that somehow reminded Geary of the bureaucratic Syndic commander. “I cannot agree to such a rash and senseless course of action.”
Captain Tulev broke in, frowning. “It seems to make a great deal of sense to me.”
“That’s hardly surprising,” Numos stated in a disparaging tone.
Tulev flushed but continued to speak in an even voice. “Captain Geary has analyzed the likely enemy reactions to our current situation. I can’t fault his reasoning. The Syndics are not fools. They’ll have a major force waiting for us at Yuon.”
“Then we’ll deal with them.”
“This fleet is still recovering from what happened in the Syndic home system! Our losses can’t be replaced until we reach home. Surely, even you realize we can’t risk getting caught by superior forces again.”
“Timidity in the face of the enemy-” Numos began.
“We aren’t in this situation because of timidity,” Captain Desjani interrupted, ignoring the angry look Numos sent her way. “We’re here because we were more concerned with acting aggressively than with thinking about what we were doing.” She subsided while the other officers stared at her in either disbelief or incomprehension.
Captain Faresa made what was apparently her best attempt to speak in a condescending voice. “Are we to understand that the commanding officer of a ship in the Alliance fleet regards aggressiveness as a negative quality?”
Geary leaned forward. “No. You are to understand that aggressiveness without forethought is a negative quality. That’s my opinion, Captain Faresa.”
Faresa’s eyes narrowed as she opened her mouth to speak, then froze in that position. Geary watched her, not letting his amusement show. You were going to cite fleet traditions, weren’t you, Faresa? Maybe even quote Black Jack Geary. But I’m the one person you can’t use that against.
Farther down the table, a commander spoke, his words rushed. “It’s common knowledge that prolonged survival sleep affects people.” He paused as he became the center of attention, then spoke quickly again. “This isn’t the officer whose example has inspired this fleet for a century. Not any more.”
Everyone looked toward Geary, who realized that the commander had brought into the open something his enemies must have been whispering since he took command. To his own surprise, the charge didn’t anger him. Perhaps because Geary disliked the heroic image of Black Jack Geary so much that he
