Theirs Not to Reason Why 4: Hardship (4 page)

“Admiral-General Myang, Admiral Genibes,” Ia greeted them, speaking right away. “I apologize for my delay in reporting in, but I had some transportation difficulties following the destruction of TUPSF
Hellfire
. Suffice to say, my—” She cut herself off as the link from Earth caught up with her.

“Captain Ia, I gave you that ship in the understanding that you would
use
it continually to fight our enemies,” Admiral-General Myang stated. “While I understand the need for you to keep it out of enemy hands, and to—
shova v’shakking
damned time lags,” Myang muttered, just as Genibes spoke.

“I’m glad to see you made it out alive—Sorry, sir,” he added, shifting his gaze slightly to one side and nodding. “You first, Admiral-General.”

“It’s an eight-second delay,” Ia warned both of them. “I’ll remind you the Salik are determined to take over Dabin as a new colonyworld. I need to kick every last one of them off-planet. They want to establish a foothold, and as I told you, this must not happen.”

Myang frowned. She looked older than when Ia had first met her in person, bartering to gain the
Hellfire
as her ship. Back then, her hair had been mostly black, with a few streaks of gray. Now it was mostly gray, with a bit of lingering black. The Admiral-General had 2 billion soldiers to keep track of in a nasty war against a well-prepared foe, and it showed.

“I gave you that ship,
Captain
, in the understanding that you would use it to our best possible advantage,” she stated sternly. “You did warn me it would need to be destroyed when you switched helms, and I agreed that it was too great a danger to let it fall into anyone else’s hands, but I was
hoping
we could actually mothball it. As it is, the
Damnation
is still not yet ready for service, and I need you at its helm.

“Or rather, I need you at the helm of the
Hellfire
right now. You proved that with your adroit management of the
Hellfire
’s weaponry, and its little ‘overshoot’ problem. You
owe
me the fighting power you’ve squandered with the premature loss of that ship, Captain,” she told Ia. “I was hoping you’d use it right up to the point where you’d transfer to the upgrade.”

“I am aware of that, sir. The timing demanded otherwise . . . which is why my crew and I are here on Dabin,” Ia replied, dipping her head in acknowledgment. “The war isn’t going well on this battlefront. It’s . . . cloudy . . . but something isn’t going well, and it’s going to get worse. I have less than two months to turn it all around and save these people. The things my crew and I can do will turn the tide for this world and save the majority of these colonists’ lives. You need that a lot more than you need our firepower out there right now. My Prophetic Stamp on that.

“As for the destruction of my ship, I may have lost you the main cannon when it was destroyed,” she acknowledged, “but in the same move, I
gained
us 1,658 Feyori factioned to
my
side, which means they’ll be on
our
side when the Alliance needs them most. I trust you’ll count that as a bonus on that long ledger of all the things I owe you, sir?”

Behind her, Roghetti choked. Ia didn’t even glance at him. He wasn’t a security concern in her eyes, nor were the on-duty members of his surveillance crew. This wasn’t a secured channel—by its very nature, lightwave couldn’t ever be completely secure, however heavily encrypted—but neither was it being monitored by the Salik. At least, not immediately. She knew they’d send ships outsystem to look for lightwave records of her arrival, once the Salik realized she was now on Dabin.

Ia continued lightly, letting her tone speak silent volumes on Roghetti’s trustworthiness in the way she ignored him for the moment. “Of course, I will also need to multiply that number by a factor of fifteen to twenty. Their help will be necessary when it comes time to save the rest of the Alliance from the Salik’s worst attack, which is yet to come. But as much as I want to tell you more about that, sirs, this is
not
a secure line or location,” Ia stated. “I’ll happily explain in more detail once we’re aboard the
Damnation
and can lock on with a direct link through hyperspace. Until then, I’ll do my best to win back Dabin for you.”

“And, what, I’m supposed to just sit here for the next two months?” Myang retorted.

“Well, I don’t expect the Admiral-General of the Terran Space Force to just twiddle her thumbs,” Ia returned lightly. “You have all those other battles to plan for. My crew and I will catch up in due time, as I outlined on the last set of data files I sent to you.”

Apparently thinking it would be a good moment to distract both strong-willed women, Genibes lifted his chin. “Captain Ia, who’s that behind you?”

“Admiral-General Christine Myang, Admiral John Genibes, meet Captain Luca Roghetti, 1st Division 6th Cordon Army,” Ia introduced, giving them the short version. “Admiral Genibes knows I arranged to have his Company babysit mine while I was still
en route
this world.”

Roghetti nodded, still standing At Attention behind her. “Sirs! It is an honor to meet you, sirs.”

Ia didn’t bother to straighten up since that would have blocked their view of him. “They’re honorable, reliable, and trustworthy, which is why I didn’t bother to ask for a private comm somewhere else. Not that I’d get one, as we’re currently on lightwave to the local hub.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Captain Roghetti,” Admiral-General Myang stated after eight seconds of lag had passed. “I sincerely hope Ship’s Captain Ia is right about breaking the bad stalemate your Division is in. Brigadier General Mattox has been assuring me the tide will turn in our favor, but then he’s been reassuring me of that for months. Ship’s Captain Ia, at least, can give me a much more exact date than that. When you
can
give it to me.”

“Admiral-General, I would love to give you an exact date beyond some point within the next two months,” Ia promised, “but at the moment, I have forty minutes to shower, change, and eat something before the next attack hits this camp, and I’m still in the same uniform from three days ago, which was the last time I had any chance to sleep. Until then, what I can safely say is that I’ve met my last mission’s objective, and I’m now working on the next one. May I go about doing so, sir?”

Myang studied her for more than the eight seconds of delay between them. On the other half of the screen, Admiral Genibes waited for her to speak. When she did, her tone was colored with a mix of aggravation, resignation, and admiration. “You are a royal pain in the rogue asteroid belt, Captain . . . but you do get the job done. Get it done. That’s an order. And keep me updated to the best of your ability. Try to find a more secure channel than this while you’re at it.”

“Aye, sir,” Ia agreed, thinking of the hyperrelay she had asked the Afaso Order of civilian monks to purchase and hide for her on this world. Now that she was actually here, she could get it shipped out to her. “If I can do something that’ll help this mess, you know I will. And when I do, you will hear from me about it, sir.”

“Yes,” Myang drawled wryly. “I have all those tons of paperwork and recordings you’ve sent to prove your sense of ethics, plus the black-box recordings you dumped in our laps . . . Just get it
done
, Captain. Admiral-General out,” Myang stated, before reaching forward and ending the link.

Her image vanished. At a tap from York’s hand on the controls, Admiral Genibes’s face filled the whole of his primary screen.

“Not to delay your orders or intentions, Captain, but I do have some good news, which has been waiting for you to check in so I could release it. The DoI and I have agreed to promote Lieutenant Commander Meyun Harper to the rank and pay of Commander. He’s been keeping me up to date on your Company’s movements for the last few days, including that harrowing drop through enemy-controlled airspace you—they—had. Between that and his other displays of leadership, he’s earned it. As per your request, he will continue to work with you for the time being, but the promotion is to take place immediately.”

“Thank you, sir. I couldn’t have done more than half of it without Commander Harper’s genius keeping my ship and crew alive,” Ia told her immediate superior. Like with Roghetti, she didn’t bother glancing over her shoulder; she knew Harper had gone elsewhere already with her orders. “He’s not here right now to hear it from you directly, but I’ll pin his oak leaves on myself as soon as I can scrounge up a set. Speaking of which, I’ll need to work on getting a local hyperrelay hub put together for a more direct link. Or at least to cut out the lightwave portion of the signal.”

“Like the Admiral-General said, get it done. Which means that, now that you are where you’re supposed to be,” Genibes added as the eight seconds of delay ticked away between them, “we need you to break this stalemate. If you haven’t noticed it in those timestreams of yours, Captain, the Dabin situation has been slipping down over the last few weeks to the wrong side of that stalemate line. Since you’re so insistent on needing to be there, I trust you do have a plan on how to break the Salik attack?”

“I should have several battle plans ready for Brigadier General Mattox’s perusal by midmorning local, tomorrow,” she promised. “If you’d call ahead and let him know those plans will be headed his way, Admiral, that would help expedite matters. I am technically outside his Branch, so he may not otherwise listen to me.”

“I’ll do that as soon as I sign off. Captain Roghetti,” Genibes stated, catching the Army officer’s attention, “you’ve been babysitting the finest Company in the Space Force. For that, I thank you. Now that their CO has rejoined them, I recommend you heed Ship’s Captain Ia’s suggestions as if they were coming from a superior in the Army.”

“Heed them as orders, Admiral?” Roghetti asked, glancing at Ia.

“As very smart suggestions, soldier. She’s technically not in the Army’s chain of command, but she’ll do her best to keep you and yours alive,” Genibes promised. “If, in
your
best estimation of a situation, her suggestions make more sense than your other orders, then I suggest you heed them.

“The Space Force relies heavily upon the cognizance and flexibility of the many meioas serving out there in the trenches,” John Genibes added formally, clasping his hands in front of him on his desk. “Particularly when the higher-ups are too far from the actual needs of combat to design and plan effective tactics. We’ll give you the objectives, but it’s up to you to carry them out. I served in the Army as a grunt for two years, Captain, before my transfer to the Navy as a petty officer, and my eventual Field Commission. I know what it’s like, and what it’s
supposed
to be like. Don’t let me down.”

Roghetti nodded. “Sir, yes, sir. We’ll do our best, Admiral.”

“That’s why I picked this Company, sir,” Ia added. “Roghetti’s got the best head for improvisation in this muddy mess.”

“I’ll let the Department of Innovations know you recommend him, then,” he quipped. “It’s good to see you alive, Ia, given what you did to your ship.
Stay
alive, and keep me updated. Genibes out,” he said, ending the call with a shift of his hand.

“. . . Thank you for the link, York,” Ia praised, briefly squeezing the private’s shoulder. “That’s exactly what I hoped would happen.”

He nodded and resumed the task of monitoring for Salik transmissions. “My pleasure, sir.”

Straightening, she turned and found Roghetti eyeing her. “. . . What?”

“Should I order everyone in this tent to completely forget we heard you mention the ‘F’ word?” he asked.

“What, Feyori?” Ia looked over at the other occupants, seated at various screen-cluttered tables. “Everyone in this tent is reliable, trustworthy, and discreet. They know their reputations are already on the line regarding their discretion while working in a command tent, and they know that the ‘F’ word, as you called it, is being monitored by the Admiral-General herself. Anyone chatting about it outside this tent would be betraying the high level of trust which you, I, and the Admiral-General herself has just placed in them . . . and everyone in this tent also knows that’s not going to happen.”

Roghetti’s soldiers sat up a little at her words, though they didn’t look up from their posts for more than a brief moment at most. The subtle shifting in postures let their CO know they’d overheard her words.

“Not to mention the Department of Innovations would end up hearing about it, sirs, and put it down as the black mark of a blabbermouth,” her comm-tech private stated. He offered Captain Roghetti a wry smile of his own, looking up briefly from his boards. “I may be content to remain a private the rest of my career, so long as I can work for Captain Ia, here, but not everyone else is.”

“The DoI doesn’t recommend loose lips for promotions when they spout off and sink ships, no,” Roghetti agreed. He looked around the tent and nodded in affirmation. “I do trust my people . . . and I thank you on their behalf for your trust as well. Mind you, we’re not used to being under the direct scrutiny of the Admiral-General. Is that a . . . a
normal
thing with you?”

“Captain Roghetti, my Company and I—all 161 of us—are the
entire
9th Cordon of the Special Forces,” Ia told him. She gestured toward the others with one hand. “We stand or fall entirely on our own, and we have not only stood, we have run . . . with exactly one stumble along the way, so far. We have hit every single corner of this war from the far side of Tlassian territories to the far side of the known Solarican worlds, from the Choya colonies all the way to my own homeworld on the edge of Grey space, and all throughout the depth of the known galactic plane.

“You want to know if I have to deal with her on a near-daily basis? I have operated my missions with full
carte blanche
over the last two years, so that I may plan exactly where my crew goes and what my crew does,” she said, watching his brows rise at that little revelation. “And in the face of all of that authority, leeway, and outstanding performance, you just heard the Admiral-General herself telling me I am a pain in the rogue asteroid belt to my face,
without
demoting me or stripping me of my command.” Hand resting lightly on her hips, she asked sardonically, “What do
you
think?”