Last Measure of Devotion (TCOTU, Book 5) (This Corner of the Universe) (13 page)

The navigation
lieutenant’s shocksuit helmet nodded as Heskan returned his attention to his
wayward main.  Data was flowing between the two sections now.  As expected,
Vernay’s run against the Saden main amounted to nothing.  He scowled at the
tactical plot, searching for the reason for the main’s failure. 
They were
lined up perfectly against the rearguard and Wallace was so fixated on our van
that he barely maneuvered it at all.
  He shook his head in disgust.  The
single consolation Heskan had carried into the pass was that even though his
section was receiving an inexplicable amount of attention, his main section would
deliver brutal strikes to the leading Saden ships of the rearguard. 
What
could have happened?

Damage
updates on the fleet status screen began to flash into existence.  It was
quickly obvious that Seshafi’s vanguard took a severe thrashing.  Curiously,
Tigre
,
the snow sailing directly behind
Dioscuri
, received merely light
damage.  It appeared that most of the ships best positioned to fire at
Tigre
inexplicably had declined shots at the snow in favor of potshots against the
Seshafian flagship.

Behind
Tigre
,
Fame
and
Jinete
had received no such reprieve. 
Fame’s
entire beam was a pockmarked wreck.  The snow was still trailing debris, an
ominous sign of deep, penetrating damage inside the ship. 
Jinete
,
bringing up the rear of the formation, fared even worse.  Heskan had assumed
the final position in the van would be the best protected since it would face
lesser tonnage, but Wallace’s last-minute insertion of the Saden main into the
combat pass gave the last third of that section little else to fire at. 
Consequently,
Jinete
had been so brutally ravaged that she had failed to
turn with the vanguard and sailed with her lights dim.

The
only seeming value of Vernay’s maneuver was that it had positioned her ships to
skirt between the Saden main and rearguard, affording the enemy little
opportunity to target her section with accurate fire.  Heskan lamented how it
must have looked in real time. 
If I didn’t know any better, I would say
that Vernay panicked and intentionally declined a combat pass with the enemy.
 
The damning thought brought on the cold realization that the “armchair
admirals” broadcasting from the multitude of media ships would soon be
reporting on the display of apparent cowardice by
Ajax’s
captain. 
Heskan could already hear the condescending voice of Chase Fuller branding
Seshafi’s newest ship captain a coward, appointed by their incompetent fleet
commander.

A
voice crackled over the main section’s communication channel.  It belonged to
Commander Tannault.  “Orders, ma’am?”

Heskan
resisted the urge to answer for his friend.  The restraint came partially from
his desire to allow her to assert her authority and partly from his anger at
the situation she had created.

A different
voice to his left interrupted Heskan’s train of thought.  “Captain, we’ve got
fires in Engineering.  The suppression system is working but Commander Jaffe
wants pre-approval for a controlled decompression in the event the fires reach
the alternate power conversion control room… our primary is gone.”

The
news knocked Heskan from his brooding.  He swiftly looked at his first officer
who now stood next to the Operations officer.  Heskan nodded and said, “Approved. 
We can’t lose that compartment.”  After a moment’s hesitation, Heskan asked,
“How’s the core?”

“It’s
safe.  The Number Two GP turret is destroyed, so is the aft Maclex.  Missile
ports are operative although Number Four has been decompressed.”  Cottineau’s
eyes darted about sheepishly before he left the console and took several steps
to stand near Heskan.  His voice grew faint.  “Uh, sir… they’re asking in
back-channels already…”  The man glanced at the fleet status display before
forcing eye contact with his superior.  “Are you, um, going to order another
pass?”  He looked away guiltily.

They
think I’m insane.
 
Heskan appraised the posture of the officer next to him. 
Even Mike is
afraid of me.

Inside
his helmet, Heskan heard Tannault’s second request for orders from Vernay. 
This time the appeal was sent over the fleet-wide channel.

Heskan
cleared his throat and loudly answered his first officer.  “No, Commander. 
We’ve done a great job so far but it’s time to retire from this battle.”  He
leaned toward the Seshafian field officer and added, “I’m glad you said
something, Mike, and if it will help ease concerns, you can let the
back-channels know we’re finished here.”

Vernay’s
voice finally responded to Tannault’s query.  It was distraught and barely
audible.  “Just… follow Ajax.”

“Commander,”
Tannault replied disgustedly at the minimal direction, “you need to fix the condition
of our formation.  We’re sailing about like absolute rabble.  We’ve already
shown that we haven’t the bollocks to face the enemy, do we need to show them
we can’t maintain a proper formation as well?”

Heskan
saw Cottineau’s head jerk up at the public rebuke.  He reached to his console
to mitigate the firestorm from Vernay’s imminent riposte but faltered. 
They’re
twenty-four light-seconds from us.  That’s too far for me to try to inject
myself into the conversation.
  Expecting the worst from Vernay, Heskan
braced for impact.

Instead
of a fiery reproof, a shockingly sedate and defeated voice answered.  “Standard
separation, speed point one-five-C.”

Heskan
took several seconds repeating the muted answer to himself.  The docility of
the response caused him to wonder if another bridge officer on
Ajax
had
answered for her. 
No, that was definitely Stacy’s voice.
 
I expected
her to be furious over both Tannault’s comment and the opportunity she missed
during the combat pass.
  He scanned the tactical plot.  The main section
was beginning to reform. 
What the hell happened to them, anyway,
he
asked himself. 
There has to be a reason.
  Heskan worked the controls at
his console and replayed the entire battle pass.  His jaw dropped when Vernay
gave the puzzling order that fragmented her section.  A second replay later and
Heskan could still see no apparent reason for the maneuver.  Conflicted anger
grew inside him as he surveyed the damage done to his fleet for nearly zero
return. 
How many sailors died in that pass,
he wondered. 
And for
what?  For us to barely scratch them?
  More than anything, he wanted
answers.

They
would have to wait.  “Incoming message from the C-Three ship, Captain.”

“Play
it, Evelyn,” Heskan ordered through clenched teeth.

Captain
Nguyen’s puzzled expression on the wall screen matched the tenor of his words. 
“What happened, Captain?  Why did the main abort its run?”

Heskan
fought anger and disappointment. 
Anything I say now is going to be
rebroadcast a thousand times in every Federation and corporate star system
. 
“Unknown, Yon,” he answered simply.  “Have we received anything from Admiral
Wallace yet?”

Nguyen’s
reply came half a minute later.  “Not yet, sir.  His ships are beginning to
swing around again.  You don’t think he believes we’re going to accept a second
pass, do you?”

“No,”
Heskan grumbled.  “He just wants me to be the one that admits defeat.”

Nguyen
offered an answer that he hoped would mollify.  “You were vastly outnumbered
and your main disobeyed their orders… It wasn’t your fault.  This can’t impugn
your honor.”

Heskan
felt heat rise in his cheeks at the mention of Vernay’s baffling performance
but he forced a smile on his face.  “It’s okay, Yon.  I’ve been defeated before
and not ashamed to admit it.  Besides, we achieved our primary objective and
the sailors in the fleet performed brilliantly.”  Inspiration struck him and
his smile became more genuine.  “I just hope that Wallace is able to accept the
fact that his fleet couldn’t inflict more damage than they did when they carried
such an extreme advantage.”  He shrugged dramatically, knowing the holo-log of
the conversation would get back to Wallace.  “It must be mortifying for him but
I guess he’s used to that by now.”

Stifled
barks of amusement around the bridge punctuated his statement.  “I’ll send you
our resignation to forward to Wallace in a couple minutes, Yon.  Heskan out.”

A curious
Cottineau asked by Heskan’s side, “You’re really not upset, Captain?”  After a
head shake from his captain, the Seshafian’s mouth twitched upward.  “You never
fail to surprise me, sir.  After you achieved the impossible in Seshafi, there
was a lot of concern that you’d expect us to somehow prevail in this system
too.”

“Mike,”
Heskan replied, “there’s more to war than who holds the ground after a battle. 
We’re going home with all our ships.  We’ve delayed Saden aggression for several
more months and bought us precious time to prepare for them.”

“But,”
Cottineau countered, “we could have done all that without the combat run.  I
know you were hoping to cripple one or two of their ships.”

Heskan
sighed while conceding, “Yes, that’s true.”  He looked back at the tactical
plot and focused his attention on
Ajax’s
blue symbol.  “We’ll have to
find out what went wrong and fix it.”  After another long sigh, he said, “Well,
let’s get this over with.  Evelyn, start recording, please.”

Heskan waited a beat
and then looked to the center wall screen.  “My compliments, Admiral Wallace…”

*  *  *

“You
certainly positioned your ships to great advantage during our pass, Viscount. 
I just feel fortunate that I was able to maneuver my van in time to prevent any
enduring damage.”  The normally brash privateer turned fleet commander seemed almost
penitent.  “Extend my admiration to Admiral Lane as well.  She reacted
flawlessly and, I believe, achieved some hits against our flagship despite the
considerable range between them.  My hat goes off to Saden gunnery today, sir. 
I will decline any additional passes—”

Their
adversary’s submission elicited whoops of triumph throughout the Saden fleet
command center.  Wallace raised a hand to quiet the celebration but permitted a
sly smile to leak through his otherwise stoic demeanor.

“—and
I hereby forfeit our entire
casus bellum
.  My formation will dive out
shortly.  I believe Jinete is not currently tunnel capable and will require the
services of your repair yard.  Seshafi will, of course, pay the repair ransom.”

 “Bravo,
Viscount,” Ladd complimented from next to Wallace.  He looked up toward the
admiral and said triumphantly, “You did it!”

Wallace
smiled passively.  “Yes, but victory was never in question.  We still missed
our chance to eliminate that man permanently.  I can only hope that the fool
needlessly risks himself like that again in Seshafi.  One thing is certain
though.  The loyalist on their side is real.”

“Do
you think I was wrong, Chief?”

Chief
Brown came to a halt in the corridor and looked at Vernay.  Both were in
standard, Seshafian duty uniform.  The dark blue fabric, stripped of the garish
accoutrements of the formal uniforms worn at important functions, was still a
bit gaudy for Brown’s tastes.  He examined the woman he towered over with sad
eyes.  Her rank was a commander’s but her broken and demoralized expression
made her appear far more junior.  “I don’t know why you did what you did,
ma’am.”  He waved off Vernay before she could respond.  “An’ I don’t need to
know, Commander.  It’s not my place or style to be makin’ judgments like that about
an officer I’m servin’ under.”

Vernay’s
shoulders slumped visibly, causing him to add, “You’re a hell of an officer,
Commander.  I’ve watched you almost yer entire career an’ I’ve never seen you
freeze like that before.  Not when you were firin’ at Blackheart while poor Ana
was comin’ apart around us… not when the capt’n fell to the Parasites an’ you
stepped up to lead us to safety.”  The grey-haired chief smiled supportively. 
“An’ you’ve certainly retired enough Hollies with yer tactics and gunnery
skills.”  It was hard for Brown to watch when the diminutive officer failed to
return his smile.

“I
sense a ‘but’ coming, Chief.”

Brown
nodded reluctantly.  “Yeah, well, nobody’s perfect, Commander.  Everyone is
goin’ to mess up from time to time.”  He winced with regret.  “Just a damn
shame yer time came at such a critical moment.”

Vernay
became further crestfallen at his admission.  She stared down at the hallway
floor and her voice became distant and pitiful.  “I know, but I couldn’t help
doing what I did…”

“Like
I said, Commander.  I’ve seen you save the capt’n from the Parasites.  I
watched you protect him from pirates an’ Hollarans alike.  It’s been yer job fer
a long time now.”  He placed a hand on the smaller officer’s slumped shoulder
and continued cheerlessly.  “But it’s not yer place anymore.  You’re not his
first officer.  You’ve gotta let that job go.”  He gave Vernay a slight shake
and looked at her grimly.  “An’ if you can’t, then you need to get out.”

Brown
watched Vernay’s arms break out in gooseflesh as she absorbed the brutally
honest advice.  She meekly nodded while avoiding eye contact.  “I’m sorry,
Chief.”

 “Don’t be sorry,
Commander.  Learn from it an’ drive on.”  Brown smiled at her and assured, “You’re
goin’ to come away stronger fer this.  I promise you that.”  He gave a
reaffirming nod and walked away.

*  *  *

Brown’s
words still ringing in her ears, Vernay watched the father figure disappear
around a corner.  She turned in the opposite direction and continued down the
corridor to arrive at the office of the Commander-in-Chief of Seshafi Naval
Operations.  She had been planet-side for only two hours, the fleet having
arrived back in-system just six hours ago.  As she expected, upon their
successful dive back into Seshafi, she had received a request for conference
from her fleet commander.  Heskan had not spoken to her other than when he
addressed the entire fleet after conceding the
casus bellum
in Sade.  At
the time, he remarked how proud he was of every sailor and the courage each displayed
against overwhelming odds.  Although Heskan’s voice contained a warm, genuine
quality, Vernay knew the remarks were not directed at her.

Not
at all.

In
her heart, she knew the simple truth.  She failed.  Her actions had made fifty-three
deaths across the fleet an empty sacrifice.  Her orders and her orders alone
had rendered their passings to barely more than a footnote in history.  She
selfishly threw away those lives for personal reasons that she had trouble
explaining even to herself.  She recalled thinking months ago of Seshafi and
Sade as insignificant, meaningless star systems.  She remembered her disgust at
the realization that her Brevic comrades-in-arms were dying in defense of a
star system she barely knew and cared even less about.  That sense of her own
superiority was a punch in the gut now. 
I traded fifty-three lives for the mere
chance I could keep the one most important to me.  Who have I become?

She
brought her hand up reflexively to her face and it came away damp. 
Oh
great,
she thought, annoyed with herself. 
I’m already crying and the
dressing-down hasn’t even started.
  She dabbed delicately at her eyes with the
tissue she had thought she would need by the time the meeting had concluded. 
When her eyes were dry, she took several deep breaths to steel herself. 
It’s
time I come clean.  I’ve been terrified of saying something to him for nearly six
months, but now, with all that’s happened, I’m more scared if I don’t.
  She
stepped forward and entered the threshold of the door sensors.

Inside,
Garrett Heskan’s planet-side secretary looked up and pointed toward the fleet
commander’s door.  “They’re waiting for you,” she told Vernay emotionlessly.

They’re
waiting for me? 
Panic
shot through Vernay as her mind reeled. 
Who else is in there?
  She
knocked once at the door.

“Enter,”
came the familiar voice.

Vernay
opened the door and marched inside.  She kept her eyes straight but used her
peripheral vision to identify the other people in the room.  Squaring her
corners on her way to one meter in front of Heskan’s large desk, she counted
two men seated off to the side: Captain Nguyen and Archduke Covington.  She
fired off a Seshafian salute and stated, “Commander Stacy Vernay reports as
ordered, sir.”

Heskan
returned the salute and said, “Be at ease, Commander.  Please, sit.”

Vernay
gratefully accepted the comfortable chair near the side of the desk.  She
resisted the urge to fidget.

“Stacy,
I’ve called you here today because we have to discuss what happened in Sade. 
I’m sorry for giving you so little notice and I realize that your place is
overseeing repairs to Ajax, but I must understand what happened before I step
in front of the cameras.”

Vernay
was well aware of the speculation running rampant among the journalists over
the last forty-eight hours.  Everything from cowardice in the face of the enemy
to diagnoses of psychological disorders circulated the gossip videos.  The
ugliest rumors, of course, came from the unidentified sources of Chase Fuller.

“I
understand, sir.”

“I’ve
reviewed the action a dozen times and I can play it here if it would help.”  Heskan
fumbled for his datapad and switched the wall screen from window mode to display
the tactical plot from the C-3 ship’s logs.

Vernay
shook her head dejectedly.  “It won’t help, sir.”

Heskan
stared intently at her.  “Then what happened, Stacy?”

She
wanted to crawl away.  Vernay felt her eyes glance sideways at the two
Seshafians in the room before she started timidly shrugging her shoulders.

“Did
you sense a trap?” Heskan offered.

It
was a trap,
she
admitted to herself. 
One of my own design.
  “No, sir.”

Greater
confusion took hold of Heskan.  “Stacy, what is it?  Speak!  I’ve only seen you
this mute once before.”

Heat
rose in her cheeks.  It felt like a conflagration.  She opened her mouth but
then closed it. 
It’s too humiliating
.

“Stacy,
dammit, we deserve some answers.”

The
censure jolted her into action.  “You’re right, sir.  I saw no trap.  I could
have decimated the Saden rearguard but I ordered my section up to support your
run.  I hoped we could intervene against the Saden main and pull its attention
to my section.  I was wrong.  It was a poor tactical decision that resulted in
the nullification of the bulk of your forces.”

From
Vernay’s right, the elder Covington leaned forward from the couch and asked
without a trace of accusation, “Why did you order the maneuver, Commander?”

Vernay
pawed at the fire in her cheeks to buy time.  Finally, she looked Covington in
the eye and admitted, “Because our vanguard was going to be crushed, sir.  I
couldn’t just sit and watch the sailors I’ve served with die for nothing.”

Nguyen’s
stern voice admonished, “There was a plan, Commander, and instead of following
it, you disobeyed your orders and for what gain?  We took heavy damage and significant
casualties only for you to fail to do your job.”

Covington
looked askew toward Nguyen.  For a moment, it looked as if he would comment but
then thought better of it and leaned back into the couch.  The next voice was
Heskan’s.  “Commander, you need to put your emotions on hold when commanding a
ship.  In war, sacrifices must be made.  We willingly make those sacrifices
because we know the person next to us will honor them by completing the
mission.  You know this, Commander; better than most.”  Heskan paused briefly
to clear his throat.  His eyes glazed slightly.  “Think back to Tomahawk.  Wade
Patrick Grant and his entire crew died upholding that honored tradition.  In
return, we came home and by doing so, part of Tomahawk came home with us.”

Vernay
felt so small.

“Stephan
Christova sacrificed himself and his ship to perform his mission so we could
return home.”  Heskan’s voice grew cold.  “Avenger followed her orders and
detached from the task group because that was what she had to do in order to
complete the mission.  Do you think Captain Ramirez wanted to leave us?”

Vernay
reflexively closed her eyes before forcing them open to look directly into the
eyes of her accuser… and her undoing on the battlefield. 
He’s right.  What
makes me so damned special that allows me to ignore the greater good for my
own, selfish motives?

Heskan
continued mercilessly.  “Ships will be destroyed, Commander.  People will die. 
We cannot stop that, Stacy.  The best we can do is honor them by accomplishing
the mission.”

Her
voice was rough when she finally could speak.  “I ordered Tyler to stay on his
GP on Anelace.  I ordered Denise to her death on Elathra…”

“Neither
of them died, Stacy, and you absolutely did the right thing.  You needed to
give that order to Gables or we all would have perished.”

“That’s
the only reason I gave it, sir.  I had to… to protect… Elathra.”

Heskan
smiled faintly for the first time.  “And we’re all grateful you did.”  His
voice warmed.  “Look.  You’re a fantastic officer and one hell of a leader. 
Sometimes, you’re so strong that I forget you’re just as human as the rest of
us.  What’s done is done and all you can do is learn from your mistake.  I’m
sure you will.  We’re finished here, Commander.  I need to speak with these
gentlemen now but I’ll send you a message shortly.”

Vernay
rose from her chair and centered herself in front of Heskan’s desk.  She came
to attention and saluted.  “Will that be all, sir?”

Heskan returned the
salute and said, “That will be all.”

*  *  *

After
the young commander had left, Nguyen cleared his throat.  “I know you say she’s
your best officer, Garrett, but can we trust her not to blow her orders again?”

“Absolutely. 
She has my complete confidence,” Heskan answered emphatically.

Nguyen
remained unconvinced.  “How can you be so sure?  Is it possible that you’ve
misjudged her abilities?  War is a brutal business and it has a way of bringing
out a person’s true character.”

Heskan
snorted lightly.  “Yes it does, Yon.  That’s why I know I haven’t misjudged
Stacy Vernay.  Corporate conflict is certainly swift and decisive but it can’t
hold a candle to the brutality of what we saw during the Brevic-Hollaran war.” 
After returning from Sade, Archduke Covington had allowed Yon Nguyen into the
inner circle who knew of Heskan’s origins.  The CEO had deemed Nguyen’s allegiance
to Seshafi unquestionable and having the man aware of the situation meant
having another person helping to manage it.  Nguyen had accepted the news
without comment or emotion and the impassive reaction left Heskan concerned.

Nguyen
cocked his head skeptically to one side.  “Come now, Garrett.  War is war.  There
may not be media footage of your skirmishes but surely you’re not suggesting
that conflict between your Republic and the Commonwealth is ‘more war’ than our
corporate battles.”

“I’m
not trying to denigrate your warfare, Yon,” Heskan pacified.  “We lost fifty-three
sailors this week.”

Nguyen’s
nod was somewhere between confirmation of Heskan’s statement and triumph in winning
his point.

“However,”
Heskan continued, “I am saying that if the battle we fought three days ago had taken
place in Brevic space, none of us would have returned home.  None.  There’s no
quarter, Yon.  Defeat is total.”

Nguyen
cast his gaze downward and muttered in disgust, “Bloodthirsty ‘Vics.”

The
comment raised Heskan’s ire.  “Not just ‘Vics, Yon.  Hollarans fight the same
way.  The Republic may have a bad reputation around here—”

“That’s
putting it mildly,” Nguyen interjected.

“—but
both sides do it.”