The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian (35 page)

“Or, doubtless, her captain,” Costa sneered.

“A ship large enough,” Sakai added without acknowledging Costa’s jibe at Geary’s private relationship with Desjani, “to carry selected members of our government along on this journey, to ensure all feel adequately represented, and to conduct whatever negotiations the Dancers wish following their arrival at this place called Kansas.”

“A battle cruiser?” Costa asked, her eyes calculating. “And all . . . interests . . . would be represented? I might be willing to buy into that.”

“If Senator Costa goes,” Senator Suva said, “I will go as well. That is nonnegotiable.”

“I’m sure we’d all love to have you along,” Costa said with a nasty grin.

“We can agree on this?” Navarro said, as if not believing any agreement could be possible.

“Not just those two,” Senator Unruh insisted.

“Someone acceptable to all,” Navarro agreed. “I know that doesn’t include me. What about Senator Sakai? Would anyone object?”

No one did.

“So, we agree that Senators Sakai, Suva, and Costa will travel on the battle cruiser
Dauntless
as that Alliance warship escorts the six Dancer ships to Old Earth. The orders to
Dauntless
will be to escort and protect the Dancer ships, unless the Dancers unexpectedly act in a hostile manner, in which case
Dauntless
will protect Old Earth and the rest of Sol Star System. In addition, Admiral Geary will go along, as will Emissary Rione—”

“Her?” Suva demanded. “Why?”

“To talk to the Dancers,” Unruh said, sounding tired again. “What about the other? Charban?”

“The Dancers prefer to communicate with both of us,” Rione said.

Geary knew the Dancers actually preferred communicating with Charban, but since he wanted Rione along, he simply nodded as if in agreement.

“It is better to have two intermediaries,” Sakai noted. “One could become fatigued by constant demands. Both Rione and Charban should come.”

“But not as emissaries!” Suva insisted.

“No. There is no need of that when representatives of the grand council will be present. They will need a title. Ambassador? Speaker?”

“Envoy,” Navarro suggested.

“That is acceptable to me.”

Suva and Costa gave reluctant agreement as well, followed by the rest of the senators present.

Navarro smiled encouragingly at Geary. “That’s decided, then. Make your preparations for this journey. I envy you, I admit. There has been no luxury for journeys to Old Earth in recent decades despite the hypernet gate the Alliance constructed there decades ago. You,
Dauntless
, and her crew, deserve the chance to see the Home of our ancestors, and the chance to rest after your arduous mission outside human space and back through Syndic space. This trip to Old Earth should give you all a well-earned break from the blood and fire you have faced for far too long.”

After Geary and Rione had left the room and were facing Timbale and Desjani once more, Rione turned to Geary. “Do you believe in jinxes, Admiral?”

He made an uncertain gesture in reply. “I believe that sometimes they seem real. Why do you ask?”

“Because I wish that Senator Navarro had not made that last statement. It is never good to tempt fate.”

“I’VE
been officially notified that I and my Marines are to remain attached to your fleet until further notice,” General Carabali said.

Geary’s smile told her how he felt about that. “I’m glad to hear it. General, I’ve already authorized every ship in the fleet to grant stand-down liberty and leave, letting as much of their crew as possible take as much leave as possible. You are authorized to apply that same policy to the Marine units attached to the fleet.”

“Thank you, Admiral, though I understand that policy will not include the Marine detachment aboard
Dauntless
?”

“Unfortunately, no, it will not,” Geary said.

“They’ll have a special task to carry out, anyway. Old Earth is also Home for the Marines. The detachment will be responsible for a small ceremony marking that.”

After ending the call with Carabali, Geary looked ruefully at his own message queue. The Marines weren’t the only ones who wanted some special ceremony or commemoration when
Dauntless
went to Old Earth. The requests for special events were coming in right and left.

His stateroom had felt oddly quiet of late even though
Dauntless
was trembling with anticipation of this journey. The crew’s disappointment at not going on leave to Kosatka, where most of them had come from, had been more than offset by the excitement of seeing Home. The crew’s stock on Kosatka, already high due to
Dauntless
’s being Black Jack’s flagship, would be astronomical after they had personally visited Sol Star System.

That train of thought led Geary to wondering why he hadn’t heard from Tanya today. He called her stateroom.

“Good afternoon, Admiral.” Desjani greeted him with a brief smile.

“I’m sorry we haven’t gotten that day off yet.”

“Maybe we’ll get it on Old Earth. We can visit someplace famous, like Tranquility Base Site.”

“That sounds romantic,” Geary said.

She didn’t rise to the humor, frowning at her desk. “There’s a lot to do.
Dauntless
has a lot of battle scars. That’s all right. She earned them honorably. But everything else has to be perfect.”

“I seem to recall someone lecturing me on not seeking perfection,” Geary said. “
Dauntless
got priority on replacement of aging systems, so she’s practically as good as new, and even before that she was the best battle cruiser in the fleet.”

“She’s the best battle cruiser, anywhere, anytime,” Desjani corrected him, then frowned again. “Can you afford to leave Smythe in charge of overseeing the fleet’s repair work while we’re gone?”

“Admiral Timbale will be watching Captain Smythe. Tanya, are you sure there’s nothing else besides getting ready for this trip? I know it’s not pleasant thinking of having those three senators on board, but you won’t have to interact with them much.”

“I won’t if my prayers are answered.” Desjani buried her face in both hands for a moment, then looked up at Geary. “I need to ask a favor.”

“What is it?”

She was uncharacteristically hesitant. “There’s someone coming aboard to see me, someone who came to Varandal because she hoped the fleet would still be here. She wants to see me . . . and I can’t deny her that. I know she would like to see you as well. Can you make time?”

“Tanya, time is one of the things I have in shortest supply, but if there is anyone who has a priority claim on my time, it’s you. Even though there are a million things I have to be doing, and half of them should have been done yesterday.” If this was what running a fleet required, what would trying to run the Alliance as a dictator entail? Anyone who really thought about it would never want such a job.

But then, Admiral Bloch hadn’t struck Geary as a deep thinker.

“I know there are a lot of demands on you,” Desjani said. “This is important to me. Please, Jack.”

She rarely called him that, even when they were alone. Geary gave her a startled look. “Tanya, I already promised I would do it. What is this about? Who is this woman?”

“What’s it about?” Her hand rose to touch the Fleet Cross ribbon on her breast. “It’s about this. Who is she? She’s the daughter of a man I sent to his death.”

—

GRETA
Milam was tall, thin, with a face that seemed serious even when she was trying to smile. Even though she was probably in her earlier twenties, she appeared older. “I am honored to meet you, Admiral,” she said as she took the seat in Desjani’s stateroom that Tanya had offered.

“The honor is mine,” Geary replied. “I understand your father served with Captain Desjani.”

That had obviously been a very clumsy and stupid thing to say. Desjani winced, and Milam looked distressed.

Greta Milam looked at Tanya, her expression flickering with mixed feelings. “Yes. On the
Fleche
. I have always been grateful for the letter you sent after that action, Captain, describing what my father had done. It gave my mother and me as much comfort as anything could have.”

Desjani sounded as if she were fighting to keep her own emotions in check. “Master Chief Milam was a true hero. He deserved the Fleet Cross much more than I did.”

“I have learned that you insisted he receive that award,” Greta Milam said. “I have it. It means so very much to me.”

“I’m glad,” Desjani said in a low voice.

“I have always wondered . . . you were the last to speak with him?”

“Yes. While he was alive.”

“What were his last words? Your letter didn’t specifically say, so I’ve wondered. It’s odd the things people latch onto. As a little girl, I noticed the letter didn’t say that, so . . . I’ve always wondered.”

Tanya gazed at Master Chief Milam’s daughter for a long moment before answering. “He told me that I only had about a minute.”

“Excuse me?” That was apparently not something that Greta Milam had expected to hear.

“He was at the power core on the Syndic heavy cruiser we had boarded,” Tanya said. “He was setting it to suffer a partial collapse. I was at one of the boarding tubes aboard the cruiser, engaging the Syndic boarding parties that were trying to get back to their own ship to stop us. He said . . . he said there were only six sailors left alive with him, and the Syndics were breaking into the compartment. He asked me to tell you, his family, that he had died with honor. I did. I told you what he had done. I told you he said that.”

Tanya looked away, composing herself, then back at Greta Milam. “I wished him an honored reception by the living stars, and then he told me to take any sailors left with me back to
Fleche
, that if we could make it back within the next minute, we might survive even though
Fleche
was a total wreck.”

“How many sailors was that?” Geary asked, feeling like an intruder into a place he did not belong.

“With me? Nine. We had started with a hundred. No. We had started with two hundred thirty-five. Only a hundred were left to fight when the Syndics boarded us.”

Greta Milam blinked back tears. “I have to confess to you, Captain, that I blamed you for a while. For living while my father died.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Desjani replied. “I did the same.”

“But I’ve already talked to some of the others who survived. They said you all expected to die. It was a miracle some of you made it back off the Syndic heavy cruiser. But they said you did that. If not for you, my father would have died anyway, and the Syndics would have won the whole battle, and no one would have ever known how my father died. Because of you, he got the chance to die doing something that everyone will remember, and we all were allowed to know what he had done. I wanted to thank you and beg your forgiveness for ever blaming you.”

Desjani nodded slowly. “Of course. I . . . often wish I could have saved him as well. He saved me and the rest.”

“It’s a tangled web, isn’t it?” Greta Milam said. “Who owes whom what. But the war is over now. We can be grateful for that.”

“Sailors are still dying.”

Greta Milam stayed silent for several seconds. “I did not mean to sound as if that didn’t matter.”

Desjani grimaced and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s still hard to remember that day. I don’t . . . talk about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Your father . . . I could not have ordered him to do what he did. I would not have. He chose to sacrifice himself so that many others could live, and I am certain his last living thoughts were of you and your mother.”

Milam bent her head in an unsuccessful attempt to hide tears, then rose. “I should go. Thank you. This . . . this is something I wanted badly. Thank you.”

But Milam paused as Desjani led the way out of her stateroom, her eyes on the plaque near the hatch. “My father’s name is on that. Are . . . are all of these friends of yours who have died?”

“Yes,” Tanya said in a low voice. “I don’t forget any of them.”

After Milam had left in the care of Master Chief Gioninni, resplendent in his dress uniform to honor the daughter of a deceased Master Chief, Desjani sat down again. “That was hard.”

“Now I know something about the fight where you earned the Fleet Cross,” Geary said.

“I didn’t earn it. Master Chief Milam did. I don’t know why I got it, too.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly as if in pain. “Did I ever tell you about my dream after that action?” Desjani asked abruptly.

He shook his head. “No. You’ve never told me anything about it, or after it.”

“Look, I give you permission to call up the official record of the action if you want to. I’m not going to talk about it. But you deserve to know . . .”

“You had some dream?” Geary prompted.

She was looking steadily at the deck, avoiding his eyes. “I was . . . stressed. My ship destroyed, the crew almost wiped out, hand-to-hand fighting . . . I wasn’t in very good shape. They gave me some meds to make me sleep. I dreamed. I dreamed I saw you sleeping.”

“What?”

Her head came up, eyes catching his, daring him to disbelieve, to question what she said. “I saw you sleeping. I knew it was you. Black Jack.”

“Me? You saw
me
?”

“Not exactly.” Her voice remained firm, though. “I couldn’t make out your face. It was shadowed. But I knew who it was. You were lying there in the dark. I didn’t understand that. Black Jack was supposed to be among the living stars, or in the lights in jump space, somewhere bright. But it was dark around you. And cold. I remember that.”

Dark and cold. At the time, he had been in survival sleep, frozen, drifting through space in a damaged escape pod. Geary stared at her. “Are you sure this isn’t some memory influenced by what you learned after your ship picked me up?”

“No. I never forgot one detail of that dream. I saw you in the dream, and I yelled at you.”

“Your reaction on seeing me was to yell at me? That I have no trouble believing.”

“Very funny.” Desjani ran both hands through her hair, her expression that of someone reliving old trauma. “I was telling you to wake up. To come help us. But then the Master Chief was there. Milam. He gestured to me that it wasn’t time yet. Then you and he just faded away. I couldn’t remember any other dream when I woke up from that sleep, not even a fragment, but I remembered everything about that.” She gazed at him again. “And when we found you years later, and they brought you aboard my ship, I looked at you, and I knew. I didn’t need the DNA or the other tests. I knew you were the man I had seen in that dream. Come back to save us at last.”

He felt the old discomfort arise, the sense of being totally inadequate to the myths that had grown up around the hero he was supposed to be. Her faith in that hero still burned strong, though somehow Desjani could keep the hero separate in her mind from the man he really was. She worshipped Black Jack. She loved John Geary, but she would never worship him, and thank the living stars for that. “Tanya, by now you know who I really am.”

“I knew you then, and I know you now. Do you remember the first time you saw me?”

“Yes. Very clearly.” Coming out of the stupor brought on by the very long period of survival sleep, he had seen above him a female captain who inexplicably wore an Alliance Fleet Cross. When he had fought at Grendel, no one in the fleet had earned that award for a generation. The sight of that Fleet Cross had been his first clue that his sleep had been far longer than it should have been. “You looked at me like . . .”

“Like I knew you. I’ve never told anyone else of that dream. I didn’t know if it had just been born of fever and stress. Or had my ancestors sent me a vision? Would I someday meet that man in my dream? Would I help him end the long and bloody war? And then you showed up, and I knew I did have a role. It would be shown me.”

No wonder Tanya had offered any support he needed, had even offered him her honor if that was what he demanded of her. “You did everything because you thought it was some job you’d been given?”

“Oh, please. I wanted to do it. No, I didn’t want to end up in love with a superior officer. I fought that. It happened anyway. But, every other thing I did because I chose to. The living stars can lead us to tasks, but only we can decide whether or not to carry them out. Of all the people in the universe, Black Jack should be able to understand that.”

“I guess he should.” Geary tried to find words that felt right, and failed. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Desjani blinked, straightened in her seat, and looked back at him as if they had just been discussing some routine matter. “My pity party is over. Now, how about you? I haven’t been so preoccupied that I hadn’t noticed you are worrying about something else.”

There wasn’t any sense in avoiding the truth when Tanya was watching him. “It’s the grand council. I’ve never gotten the impression the grand council is a smooth-running machine, but they seem a lot worse. Instead of talking over issues, they’re just zinging each other with verbal put-downs.”

“Haven’t they always been that way?”

Of course, that would be Desjani’s reaction. Her opinion of the politicians running the Alliance could probably not get a single notch lower. “Not as bad. Not during my first meeting with them. And at the second meeting, the one where I got the orders for our mission into enigma space, I had the feeling the grand council was pretty much united in agreeing on those orders even though different senators had different reasons for wanting us to go on that mission.”