“You disagree with this assessment,” Trejo said.
“I do. By mandate from the high consul himself, all humans are citizens of the Laconian Empire. The people on Medina are not a neutral third party placed between us and an insurgent faction. They are Laconians, and the insurgents are not a foreign government resisting conquest, they are criminals. Any other reaction defies the imperial mandate and legitimizes them. I don’t need to win their hearts. I need them to understand that all the previous political bodies and relationships are irrelevant. We are not conquering new territory, we are enforcing the law in our empire.”
Trejo smiled. “That could have come straight out of a political theory class at the academy. I wasn’t asking for a book report, Captain. Do you believe all of that is true?”
It was a strange question. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, Admiral.”
“It is certainly the official position of the empire, and accurately stated,” Trejo agreed.
“Sir, if that’s all, I—”
“Why,” Trejo asked, as if Singh hadn’t spoken at all, “did the high consul place you here, do you think?”
“Sir?”
“Your educational credentials are impeccable. I’ve read your paper analyzing Duarte’s theories on empire through logistical control. And I’d bet even he was impressed. You attributed some truly unique ideas to his text that I’m pretty sure aren’t actually in there.”
“Thank you, sir,” Singh replied, trying to keep it from sounding like a question and failing.
“But you did exactly one tour on a naval vessel prior to this posting. And there are probably a hundred more like me and Tanaka on Laconia who have actual combat-command experience. Why you and not any of them?”
Singh had wondered that himself. “I honestly can’t answer that, sir.”
“And that’s the only right answer, Sonny. No, you don’t know. But I’m going to give you a hint. Do you know how to polish a rock?”
“No, sir.”
“You put it in a tumbler with a lot of other rocks and some sand and you roll them around for a couple of weeks until all the edges are worn off and they’re nice and shiny. We’re taking control of thirteen hundred different worlds, and we’ve only got a hundred old farts like me and Tanaka, and a couple thousand university-educated greenhorns like yourself.”
Singh had no idea what a greenhorn was. It sounded like a Mariner Valley idiom. But the context was clear. And so was the point.
“Colonel Tanaka was placed here to—” Singh started.
“To rub some of the stupid off you. Tanaka’s been fighting insurgents since before you were born. She’s killed more people than you’ve met. But we’ve already got a Colonel Tanaka. Putting her in charge doesn’t create anything new. Hopefully this little dust-up has knocked some of your edges off, or this will be a waste of everyone’s time. Tanaka’s scheduled to fly out in an hour. I think you owe her a conversation.”
“Yes, sir,” Singh replied. It tasted like more bile in his mouth, but the admiral was right.
Trejo rose. The meeting was ended.
“Dismissed, Captain. Make sure Medina’s still here when I get back.”
“Understood, Admiral.”
The bravest thing would have been to go to the Tempest. The easiest thing, to record a message and send it through the Medina system where the security measures would forgive not having the conversation in real time. He split the difference.
The Belter whiskey that someone had left in his old cabin on the Storm tasted like acid and mushrooms, but Singh drank it anyway. The alcohol seemed to finally cut through the last of the bile in his mouth and throat. He kicked his boots off, propped his heels on his desk, and waited for the knot in his chest to loosen, even if only a little bit.
It should have been obvious from the start. Looking back on it, the only thing Singh had to recommend him for the governorship was his absolute commitment to High Consul Duarte’s vision. But that’s all they’d asked from him. They needed to take the inexperienced true believers like himself and drop them into the deep center of the lake, then hope they learned enough to swim back to shore. And everything about Tanaka: her arrogance, her contempt for his inexperience, her refusal to just accept his orders at face value. All of those were exactly the reason she’d been placed under his command. Throwing her out in a fit of pique was the sort of adolescent behavior they were trying to burn out of his system.
He had fucked it up.
The fact that Admiral Trejo understood that he’d done it in the blind panic that followed his first time under fire was both a relief and a humiliation. It was also probably the only reason he hadn’t been relieved of command. Trejo saw what had gone wrong and still felt like Singh had something to offer. That he wasn’t fit for the rubbish bin just yet. Comforting and humiliating, again.
He took another drink of the whiskey. It left his throat warm. That was about the best he could say for it. That was enough.
There was another trap ahead. Singh found that he could sense it. He could feel Trejo’s attention, waiting to see how he’d navigate his way out now that his mistake had been made clear. The admiral had practically ordered Singh to speak with Tanaka before she left, so that’s where the trap lay. He had a dozen different impulses about what that conversation would be, and he second-guessed every one of them as quickly as he recognized them. This was his command. So it was his to lose.
Maybe the right thing was to be willing to fail honorably. Even if he did get sent home to Nat and the monster, the disgrace would be less if he knew he’d done the fully adult thing.
He pulled the screen off his wrist and flattened it out on his desk. “Colonel Tanaka, video and voice,” he said to it.
“Tanaka here,” she said a moment later. On the small screen, her face was compressed down to only the most prominent features. Dark, heavy eyebrows. Wide jaw. Flattened, slightly off-center nose. It made her look dangerous and angry. She was probably both right now.
“Colonel,” Singh said, trying to keep his tone even and informational. He thought he mostly succeeded. A call to finalize some trivial bureaucratic details.
“Governor,” she said, actually achieving the emotionless affect he was only trying for.
“I spoke to Admiral Trejo about your transfer. He said he was happy to move you into a command position on the Tempest, and I did nothing to dissuade him from this.”
“Thank you for not attempting to torpedo my career,” she said, not sounding grateful at all. The fact that she didn’t say, Fuck you, little man, you couldn’t have hurt me even if you wanted to was as polite as this was likely to get.
“I want you to know that I recognize that in my heightened emotional state following the attack, I made some poor decisions, not least of which was removing you from your command.”
There was a pause. A fraction of a fraction of a second, but it was there.
“Really,” she said. The large eyebrows moved up a millimeter.
“Yes. And if I could take that back without compounding my error, I would. But the most important thing now, to both my staff and to the citizens of Medina, is the appearance of calm authority at the top. To make so drastic a move as relieving you only to rescind it would make us … make me appear weak and indecisive. So your transfer will be recorded as a move to put additional combat experience on Admiral Trejo’s staff, now that we’ve secured the station and he’s moving into the attack on Sol. It will not put a blemish on your outstanding record. Unfortunately, my apologies and regrets will have to remain unofficial for now.”
Tanaka frowned, though it looked more like surprise than anger. “I appreciate that, Governor.”
“Good luck and godspeed in Sol, Colonel. We will all be waiting for word of your mission’s success. Singh out.”
He closed the connection and drank off the last of the terrible Belter whiskey. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, but he felt like a weight he’d been carrying ever since landing on Medina was lifting. This was his station now. His command, to fail or succeed at entirely on his own merits. And now he felt that the worst mistake he was likely to make was behind him, and it hadn’t actually been all that bad.
Things could only get better from here.
Chapter Twenty-One: Holden