Dreadnaught

“Would you withhold anything I needed to know to get you and your husband home safe again?” Geary called after her.

Rione didn’t answer, walking steadily away.

HE had managed to deflect some of the numerous requests and demands for personal meetings relayed through Charban until Dauntless and the rest of the fleet jumped into the nothingness of jump space. Out of respect for the rank and service of the liberated prisoners, Geary had found time to meet with a number of them, finding the meetings often difficult since he could offer those officers none of the things they expected and more than one kept insisting on those things anyway.

He had never before appreciated just how pleasant the isolated nothingness of jump space could be.

The work on Dauntless continued to clog passageways, but the slow progression of work areas provided evidence of progress, interspersed by sudden leaps across areas in which earlier battle damage had already resulted in extensive replacement of original system components. “Rebuild work on Dauntless is fifty-one percent complete,” Captain Smythe had proudly declared before jump. “Of course, that last forty-nine percent might be a real bitch. We’ve done the easiest-to-access work first.”

Soon afterward, Desjani had shown up at Geary’s stateroom. She indicated the sailor beside her, a master chief petty officer whose girth must be right on the upper edge of fleet body-fat standards. However, the master chief’s uniform was immaculate, and he wore the ribbons for some impressive combat awards. “Admiral, have you met Master Chief Gioninni?”

Geary nodded, having encountered the stout master chief a number of times. “We’ve talked.”

“In those conversations, did Master Chief Gioninni ever mention that while he has never been convicted of violating a single law or regulation, he is nonetheless widely rumored to be constantly juggling so many schemes and scams that the tactical systems on the average battle cruiser would have trouble keeping track of them all?”

“Captain, there’s no evidence any of those rumors are true,” Gioninni protested.

“If we could find the evidence, you’d be in the brig for about five hundred years, Master Chief.” Desjani made a gesture in the general direction of the auxiliaries. “Master Chief Gioninni is, I believe, the perfect individual to monitor activities on some of the other ships in the fleet for anything contrary to regulations.”

“On account of my professionalism and keen observational skills, that is, of course,” the master chief explained.

“Of course,” Geary agreed. He wondered if Gioninni was the reincarnation of a senior chief that he had known a century ago. “Why would anyone running his own schemes and scams be interested in reporting on similar activities being carried out by others? I’m asking on a purely theoretical basis, of course.”

“Well, sir, speaking purely theoretically, of course,” Gioninni said, “someone who might be doing such improper and unauthorized things wouldn’t want too much competition, and he . . . or she . . . wouldn’t want the competition to maybe try to dig up evidence against him . . . or her. Not that there could be any such evidence, of course.”

“Of course.” Geary kept a straight face with some difficulty. “I do need to know what your first priority is, Master Chief.”

“My first priority, sir?” Gioninni thought for a moment. “Even supposing certain rumors were true, Admiral, I swear by the honor of all my ancestors that I would never allow anything that endangered this ship. Or any other ship. Or anyone on any ship, for that matter.”

Geary looked toward Desjani, who nodded her belief in what Gioninni had said. “All right, then,” Geary agreed. “Keep an eye on things and let us know if there’s anything we should be told about.”

“And if we find out you’ve cut any deals to keep quiet in exchange for a piece of the action, you might find yourself among your ancestors a lot sooner than you expected to be,” Desjani added in her sternest manner.

“Yes, ma’am!” Master Chief Gioninni saluted, then marched off with perfect military bearing.

“You haven’t managed to catch him at anything yet, eh?” Geary asked Desjani.

“Not yet. Maybe it’s just as well. There are times when necessary items for the ship can’t be acquired quickly enough through official channels. At times like that, Master Chief Gioninni can be extremely useful. Not that he’s ever been told to bypass proper procedures, of course.”

“Of course.”

AT point one light speed, it was a day and a half travel time from the jump point they arrived at to Hasadan’s hypernet gate. Geary had to fight down constant urges to ramp up the fleet’s velocity, to get to the gate faster and get to Midway faster and finally take the dive into alien space.