Relentless by Jack Campbell
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.
But if he hadn’t received that message from Lorica, would he feel the same way? Or, driven by anger and frustration, would he have reluctantly agreed with Cresida and perhaps fatally undermined a critical component of the fleet? He’d been appalled by the compromises made in the principles of the Alliance over the hundred years of war, but moments like this helped Geary see how easy it was to make such compromises, to abandon important principles “just this once because it was important.”
“Co-President Rione volunteered to be interrogated when she was under suspicion,” one of the Callas Republic captains reminded everyone.
“A politician can scarcely be considered to have a conception of honor equal to that of a fleet officer.” Armus blurted out the statement, then reddened as he realized he’d said it in Rione’s presence.
“Given her position as an Alliance senator,” Duellos pointed out, “it was a comparable act.”
“And,” Captain Desjani stated in a deceptively dispassionate tone, “since many here believe politicians have much more to fear in the w
“Thank you, Captain Desjani,” Rione replied in a voice that could have cut through hull armor.
Geary had been stalling while Kila was occupied with the meeting, letting the debate ramble to kill time. Now Colonel Carabali looked aside at something visible to her, then nodded again to Geary. The trap was set.
Geary rapped his knuckles on the table to get everyone’s attention. “We need not question the honor of every officer in this fleet, nor do we need to subject officers to blanket questioning in ways that would harm the structure and discipline of the fleet.” He had their attention, all of the other officers watching him and clearly wondering what he would say next. Even Desjani managed to do a decent job of looking puzzled. “Instead, we’ll let the dead speak.”
Varying expressions of shock and surprise appeared on every face as Geary tapped the table with one fingertip. “Lorica’s commanding officer was able to transmit something important just before her ship’s destruction, something she’d found. Her ship was probably targeted because the plotters suspected that Commander Gaes had learned too much, just as Captain Cresida speculated.” He couldn’t be certain of that, couldn’t know for how long Gaes had been aware of the identity of the ship from which the original worm came. Gaes had known about the original worm, she’d warned Geary of it, but if she’d known who was behind it, she hadn’t told him then. Gaes had died in the line of duty, though, and had given him the information he desperately needed, so in Geary’s eyes she deserved to be given every benefit of the doubt.
Geary entered a command. The message from Lorica appeared, floating above the table, the meeting software making it appear to face everyone. “You’ll recall the first worm placed in this fleet’s operating systems, the one that would have disabled most of the jump drives, except for a few ships like Dauntless, which would have been doomed to remain in jump space forever.” He indicated the message. “This identifies the one thing we lacked, the information revealing from which ship that worm originated.” Everyone was staring at him as Geary shifted his gaze and focused on Kila. “Captain Kila, that worm originated from Inspire.”
Kila appeared taken aback at the news. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, Captain Kila. Would you care to explain how your ship is the source of treasonous and malicious software aimed at your comrades in this fleet?”
“I don’t care for what you’re implying, Captain Geary!” Kila snapped back at him.
“We should immediately send orders to Inspire to arrest those who could have been involved,” Badaya urged. “Do it now, before they hear about this.”
Kila turned on Badaya. “This message hasn’t even been authenticated yet. Did it actually come from Lorica? If it did, is it real or fabricated? I assure every officer here that if I had known anything about such a thing, I would have personally ensured that those responsible were brought to justice! As for your suggestion, Captain Badaya, I am fully capable of ordering the arrest of those officers and ensuring that anything they know is revealed.”
If he hadn’t been tipped off by Rione to watch for it, Geary wouldn’t have noticed how one of Kila’s hands slipped out of sight during her impassioned denial. That hand could easily be manipulating controls outside the view of the conferencing software. “The message can be examined by anyone seeking to establish its authenticity,” he replied, trying to keep his voice calm even though he wanted to yell back at Kila. “Every communications and security officer who has looked at it thus far has identified its original source as Inspire. You were unaware that the worm originated from Inspire?”
“Of course I was!” Kila glared around, her gaze fixing on Duellos. “You set this up, didn’t you? The long-ago-scorned lover finally finding his revenge!”
Duellos had no trouble looking innocent as he shook his head, since he hadn’t been advised beforehand of the message, but his dislike of Kila was still apparent. “I would think that a commanding officer would be less concerned about herself and more concerned about discovering the source of that worm aboard her ship.”
“Whoever is responsible will be brought to account!” Kila stood. “I need to be supervising the search on Inspire for whoever did this, before they learn about this information, assuming,” she added quickly, “that the message supposedly from Lorica is authentic.”
Geary looked at Colonel Carabali again as the Marine listened to something not audible to the meeting, then the Marine commander nodded a final time, and Geary smiled grimly at Kila. “We should start with your ship’s systems-security officer, don’t you think, Captain Kila? And the communications officer and the executive officer?”
“Of course!” Kila said. “If you let me start my investigation, I will ensure they aren’t alerted about this possible evidence in time for them to—”
“The investigation has already started.” Geary broke in. “Colonel Carabali, can you bring everyone up to date?”
Carabali avoided looking at Kila, her own face set in rigidly professional lines as she spoke in a flat voice. “On instructions from Captain Geary, my Marines assigned to Inspire waited until this meeting began, then covertly took into protective custody the executive officer, communications officer, and systems-security officer on Inspire.”
The images of the fleet’s commanding officers were now staring either at Carabali or Geary or Kila. Geary hoped he wasn’t looking triumphant. Kila’s face revealed nothing but seemed to have become unnaturally stiff.
“The officers taken into custody,” Carabali continued, “were placed inside a maximum-isolation security cell while they were checked for anything dangerous to themselves or Inspire. Maximum-isolation cells include complete coverage based on an ancient device called a Faraday cage, which blocks any incoming or outgoing radiation. Communication is maintained using physical messages passed through a series of shielded locks.” Colonel Carabali paused for a moment, then looked straight at Kila. “Approximately three minutes ago, examinations of the systems-security officer and the communications officer on Inspire revealed the presence of INBNDs. As of one minute ago, sensors on the outside of the security cells detected and grounded out a series of signals used for high-security, coded transmissions. The signals must have been generated inside Inspire’s hull.”
Captain Tulev spoke into the momentary silence that followed. “INBNDs?”
“Injected nano-based neural disruptors,” Carabali explained, “which are commonly known as ‘brain barbecues’ for their effect on the nervous system once triggered. They can be injected into an individual without that person’s knowledge if the individual is distracted. The intercepted signals appear to have been intended to trigger the brain barbecues.”
This time the silence was longer. “Someone just tried to kill those three officers?” Captain Badaya finally asked incredulously.
“The systems-security officer and the communications officer, definitely. We’re still examining Inspire’s executive officer to see if INBNDs are present in his body.” Carabali’s eyes didn’t leave Kila. “As I said, the intercepted signals originated on Inspire.”
Desjani had her own gaze locked on Kila as if she were a hell-lance battery ready to fire. “How strange that someone tried to kill those officers right after those in this meeting were told of the worm that originated from Inspire . Who on Inspire would have known that those officers were going to be questioned?”
Duellos nodded, his own expression as hard as the armor on a battleship. “It will certainly be interesting to see whom those officers implicate once they are informed that someone tried to kill them. To keep them silent? To make it appear that they were the only guilty ones? We would have been left with two or three dead officers and perhaps some convincing evidence that they committed suicide after learning they were suspects.”
Kila’s single-minded devotion to promotion
“Captain Kila,” Geary stated with what he felt was admirable restraint, “in light of recent events and the evidence available to the fleet, you are hereby relieved of command while the situation on Inspire is investigated. Colonel Carabali, please send some of your Marines to escort Captain Kila to a shuttle for transfer to Illustrious.”
Kila looked around the table contemptuously, then raised one arm in a dramatic gesture before lowering it to tap something on the control panel before her on Inspire. “Never mind, Colonel. Your Marines won’t be able to enter my stateroom. The Alliance is going to lose this war because it’s weak, because its fleet officers are weak. None of you are fit to command this fleet, especially you, Captain Geary. You care more for the lives of Syndics than you do for the lives of Alliance citizens!”
Badaya spoke in a voice so deep he seemed to be speaking from his gut. “You murderous bitch. How dare you claim to care for the lives of Alliance citizens when you murdered the crew of Lorica and tried to murder the crews of Illustrious, Dauntless, and Furious!”
Kila bared her teeth at Badaya. “We are all sworn to die for the sake of the Alliance, and the unfortunate sacrifice of those crews would have been for the highest cause. It would have been no different than if they died in combat against those who would weaken and destroy the Alliance. If we want to swap accusations of treason, I’m ready. What has Geary promised you after he takes over the Alliance? You call yourselves loyal? You’re pathetic and corrupt, selling yourselves out for someone who wants power but won’t do what’s necessary to save the Alliance.”