"She is," Jaruzelska said after a moment's reflection. "Look, it's no secret that things are not going well, and the decision to terminate the dreadnought experiment despite their success at Devastation Reef has made things worse. The latest projections show that we will not have enough spacers to man an invasion fleet capable of taking Commitment inside four years at best. Now, those projections depend on some optimistic assumptions about Fleet's ability to deal with Hammer missiles tipped with antimatter warheads, which they still have enough of in inventory to cause us problems. So I reckon it's going to be more like five years. The Hammers hurt us badly at Comdur. We have a long way to go."
"It's not good, is it?"
"No, Michael, it's not, and it'll be even worse if we can't rely on our spacers to do their duty. I'll talk to the commander in chief. She needs to get a handle on this. Talk to me in a year's time. Maybe Fleet can pull a rabbit or two out of the hat. I'll also talk to Admiral Chou at personnel. I think Fleet needs to establish just how bad things are out there."
"What about the politicians. Have they seen the projections? How do they feel about waiting five years?"
"That's also above your pay grade, Michael, so sorry, no comment."
"Understood, Admiral. Forgive my French, sir, but they'll shit themselves, though."
Jaruzelska shrugged. "Can't say. Anyway, enough of that. Let's talk about you."
Michael's heart sank. Jaruzelska's ability to get to the heart of things was legendary. "Okay, sir," he said, struggling to keep his voice matter-of-fact despite the fact that his heart had started to thump.
"I've been reviewing your recent operations: Balawal, Barcoola, Grendell, Tyrlathi. To be fair, you did what you were sent to do, but I can't say that you executed them with the flair I've come to expect from you. Too many unnecessary risks, too many shortcuts. It's as if you just wanted to get the job done quickly, like… oh, I don't know… like there was something better for you to do, somewhere else you'd rather be."
"Every one of those operations did what it was supposed to do, sir," Michael said. "And the Nyleth system commander hasn't raised any concerns."
Jaruzelska's eyes narrowed in a sudden flare of anger. "That's because he does not know you the way I do, Lieutenant," she said, her words clipped, "and I know you very well. So I strongly suggest that this is not the time to play games with me."
"No, Admiral," Michael said with an apologetic bob of his head; with a sudden stab of fear, he knew it would not take much for the admiral to tear the truth out of him. "Sorry, sir."
"Hmm." Jaruzelska paused. She looked Michael directly in the eye with a focused intensity that kicked his heartbeat up yet another gear. "So tell me… why would that be?" she said.
Fighting back an overwhelming urge to tell Jaruzelska about Anna, Michael forced himself to sound calm and in control. "Well, sir. The honest answer is, I don't know," he said. "But what you say is right. My executive officer shares your concerns, and she's already spoken to me."
Jaruzelska's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "She has? That takes guts. Not many executive officers would have done that."
"Jayla Ferreira's a great XO, sir. She's tough, she's smart, and she's focused. She also has a clear view of right and wrong. I'm lucky to have her."
"I think you are, but she's not the issue here. You are. So what're you doing to fix the problem?"
Michael offered a silent prayer of thanks that Jaruzelska had moved past the still unanswered question: Why was he performing below his best?
"Recognize the problem," he said, "accept it, make sure I deal with recommendations made by my CIC team, consider them, don't dismiss them out of hand. Less Michael Helfort, more Redwood command team."
Jaruzelska smiled. "In other words, act like the Michael Helfort I know so well, the Michael Helfort who blew the Hammer antimatter plant at Devastation Reef to hell."
"Yes, Admiral," Michael said, doing his best to look chastened rather than relieved. He doubted he could have withstood one of Jaruzelska's cross-examinations; he had seen her reduce tougher spacers than he to quivering blobs of jelly.
"I'm pleased to hear it," Jaruzelska said, "because if I'm right about Ferreira, she'll understand precisely what Fleet Regulations have to say on the subject of a captain's fitness to command."
"She does, sir. She told me she understands her obligations under Fleet Regulations, section 34, subsection 15."
"Fine," Jaruzelska said. "I don't think I need to say any more, do I?"
"No, sir. You don't."
"Turning to other matters. My shuttle's due in less than half an hour, and I have a few more things to talk to you about before I go. First…" Wednesday, September 5, 2401, UD FWSS Redwood, in orbit around Nyleth-B
"All set, Jayla?"
"All set, sir. Redwood, Red River, and Redress are ready in all respects to go."
"Right, let's do this."
"Yes, sir. All stations. Assume damage control state 2, airtight condition yankee. Propulsion, main engines to stand by."
Michael settled back to let Redwood and her sister ships make their final preparations to get under way and depart Nyleth orbit, the familiar routine ebbing and flowing around him. "Captain, sir."
"Yes, Jayla."
"Ship is at damage control state 2, airtight condition yankee. Redwood, Red River, and Redress are nominal. We have clearance from Nyleth nearspace control to depart. We're good to go, sir."
"Roger. All stations, stand by to leave orbit."
Five minutes later, Michael allowed himself to relax a fraction. Another few hours, he thought, and the mission would become a reality, the option to turn back gone. He looked across at Ferreira as she entered the combat information center; he waved her over.
"So, Jayla. Looks like we're committed."
"Yes, sir. We are."
"Not having second thoughts?"
"Hell, yes." Ferreira grinned. "Who wouldn't? Even though this feels like every other time we've broken orbit, that it's just another mission like all the rest, it sure isn't."
"No," Michael said softly, "that it's not. Can't have been too many missions in Fleet history where nobody was coming back."
"None that I can think of. But you know what I hate most, sir?"
"What?"
"Knowing that we'll survive… most likely… but Redwood, Red River, and Redress won't. I hate that."
"Me, too." Michael paused to look around. "I've never thought of ships as just big lumps of ceramsteel and titanium. It's old-fashioned, I know, but I've always thought ships have souls. It makes me feel like we're killing them, even if it is in a good cause."
"Tell you one thing, sir. Nobody's going to forget these three ships, never. This operation is a doozy. It breaks every rule in the Fighting Instructions, it treats Fleet Regulations with contempt, and it's going to destroy the careers and reputations of all of us. I'm going to be branded a criminal for life, and so, sir, are you." Ferreira looked at Michael and grinned. "Talk about taking your place in history."
Michael had to laugh. "I can handle all that, Jayla. But you want to know what really bothers me?"
"That we fail? That we go through all this and Anna… you know."
"Actually, no. I think we've planned this well enough to know that our chances of success are as good as any mission I've been on. No, what really bothers me is the fact that once I'm dirtside on Commitment, I'm marooned there until this damn war ends."
"If we live that long. It's going to be tough, isn't it?"