Rione shrugged. “Some of them surely already know. I imagine bribes to the right people keep that knowledge secure. Having us pass through here might draw too much attention to cover up, though.”

He checked the maneuvering display. “It’ll only take four days for us to reach the jump point for Wendig. The auxiliaries are already drawing down the raw materials we looted at Lakota. Do you think we can trust the Syndics here to provide unsabotaged raw materials if we demand them?”

“Trust a pirate operation? How much profit could you offer them?”

“None,” Geary replied.

“Then that’s how much trust you could have in them.”

WITH the Syndic presence in Branwyn showing every sign of hasty emergency evacuation and no threats toward the Alliance fleet, Geary found himself restless. Unable to sit still and think, he started taking more long walks through the passageways of Dauntless. Battle cruisers were large ships, but not so large that such walks didn’t often encounter Captain Desjani doing her own thinking and maintaining a constant presence among her crew. Ironically, being openly seen with Desjani was a far better defense against rumors of unprofessional conduct than avoiding her would be, because if they weren’t seen walking and talking together, then gossip would assume they were together in places where they couldn’t be seen doing things they didn’t want seen.

Most of the conversation kept to professional topics. The war, ship-handling, the merits of different classes of ships, tactics, logistics, personnel matters, and where the fleet should go next. Not the sort of thing anyone overhearing could possibly construe as social conversations, though Desjani did have a passion for those topics. She truly did love being a fleet officer.

But as time went by Desjani spoke more of her home planet Kosatka and Alliance space in general, of her family, and gradually drew Geary out on the same topics. He found himself bringing up memories that had been too painful to consider, thoughts of people and places now vanished, surprised that he could speak of them with her and feel a sense not only of melancholy but also of release.

“You told me a while ago that you knew someone on Dreadnaught,” Desjani brought up once, as they walked through a long passageway running toward the propulsion spaces. It was well into the ship’s night, and only an occasional sailor or officer went past on an errand through the darkened passage.

That brought up a whirl of more recent painful memories, centered on the Syndic home system. “Yeah,” Geary agreed softly. “My grandniece. Captain Michael Geary’s sister. He gave me a message for her.”

Desjani was looking at her data pad. “Commander Jane Geary? She’s not just on Dreadnaught. She’s the commanding officer.” Then Desjani frowned. “A battleship commanded by a Geary. There’s something odd there, but I never heard any negative stories about her.”

Geary tried not to snort. The modern fleet assigned its best officers to battle cruisers, where they could charge into battle first, and die first. “Maybe she’s being judged by an impossible standard.”

“That of her legendary great-uncle?” Desjani asked, then smiled. “It’s possible.” The smile went away. “And when we get back, you’ll have to tell her that her brother is probably dead. I’m sorry.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“But you have a message for her from him?”

“Yeah. Just about the last thing he said before Repulse was destroyed.” He thought about it, then decided if there was anyone who would comprehend that message who wasn’t a Geary, it might be Desjani. “He told me to tell her that he didn’t hate me anymore.”

She looked briefly shocked, then the expression faded into thoughtfulness. “The impossible standard. Michael Geary hated you for what he’d been forced to live with?”

“That’s what he said.” In the very brief time that Geary had been granted to speak with his grandnephew, there hadn’t been much opportunity to say more.

“But he changed his mind.” Desjani gave Geary a long look. “Because he was using Repulse to hold off the enemy. A last-ditch rearguard action to allow the rest of the fleet to escape, the same sort of action that you became legendary for. He understood then, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” He felt a great sense of relief at being able to share the story. Tanya Desjani got it. Of course she did. “He realized I hadn’t done it because I thought I was a hero or because I wanted glory. I did it because so many others were counting on me. That’s all.”

“And he had to do the same.” She nodded. “It does take a hero, sir.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Geary shrugged, feeling old pain rising to the surface as he thought of the death of his old ship a century ago and more recent sorrow from ships in this fleet that had been lost fighting the same sort of hopeless rearguard actions. “It’s pure chance who ends up in a situation like that.”

“Maybe.” Desjani gave Geary a serious look. “But what someone does when faced with that situation isn’t pure chance, sir. They make choices, as we all do. Those choices define us. I know you don’t like me to say it, but you are a hero, sir. If you were a fraud, people would have seen that by now.”

“I’m human, Tanya.”

“Of course you are. That what makes it heroic. Humans fear death and pain, and when we reach beyond that fear to protect others, we have done something to be proud of.”

Startled, Geary walked silently for a moment before replying. “I’d never thought of it that way. You’re pretty good with words, you know. No wonder your uncle wanted you to be part of his literary agency.”

She looked down at the deck and smiled in a slightly wistful way. “My fate lay among the stars, Captain Geary. I think I’ve always felt that way.”

“Any idea why?”

“No. They just always called to me. Strange that I should gaze up at the vast emptiness of space since I was little and believe that the emptiness would hold what really mattered to me, but that’s how it always felt.”

“Dauntless?” Geary teased. “I can tell you love being on the bridge of a battle cruiser.”

Desjani laughed, something so rare that Geary wasn’t certain if he’d heard it before. “I hope not! I adore Dauntless, but battle cruisers are very demanding queens to their captains. It’s an extremely one-sided relationship, as you know. I was hoping for something a little more balanced.” She was smiling, still, and despite himself, he wondered what such a relationship with Desjani would be like. But he couldn’t, of course, and she couldn’t, of course, so they walked on down the passageway, the conversation safely turning to the latest modifications in hell-lance targeting systems.

When he reached his stateroom he was surprised to find Rione there despite the late hour, standing before the star display as if she’d been studying it for a long time. “Is something wrong?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rione said. “I’m just your former lover. You’ve been talking to her.”

Geary frowned at Rione. “Captain Desjani, you mean. She’s my flagship captain-”

“And you weren’t just talking about your beloved fleet,” Rione finished, but she didn’t sound angry this time, just defeated.

“There won’t be anything between us, Victoria. You know why there can’t be anything between Tanya Desjani and me.”

Rione kept her face averted for a while, then looked back at Geary, her expression unreadable. “There’s already something between you. Nothing physical. No. No improper actions of any kind. I freely admit that. Neither of you would do that. But there’s an emotional bond, feelings that go far beyond professional, and you know that’s true, John Geary.” She exhaled slowly, looking away again. “I won’t be any man’s second choice.”

He wondered what to say. “I didn’t think-”

“No. You didn’t. Not that I ever encouraged you to think I’d be interested in anything more than the physical relationship we’ve sometimes enjoyed. But a strong woman needs a strong man, and I’ve found myself wanting more from you than sex. But I can’t have that. Admit it. You don’t love me. You lust for my body, but you do not and cannot love me.”