The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian

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.”