Battle Cruiser by B. V. Larson Page B

tiny ship continued to accelerate. It would take days to reach our full cruising speed. At that point, we’d shut down the engines. We would coast sunward until we came close to Earth weeks from now, where we’d begin braking. When we came close to home, we’d allow ourselves to be caught by the planetary gravity well and slip into a stable orbit.
    When the incoming message light blinked again, Rumbold glanced at me. He made no move to open the channel himself.
    “Is it my imagination, or are you sweating, Rumbold?” I asked. “Have our air conditioning systems failed again?”
    “It does seem a little warm in here to me, sir,” he said smoothly. “Perhaps it was that long burn we pulled. The heat shields aren’t as good as they were decades back.”
    I gave him a half-smile. We both knew he was sweating due to the possible content of Captain Singh’s reply, but since it would have been rude to point this out directly, I avoided doing so.
    Instead, I opened the channel and listened to Singh’s response privately.
    The captain’s face had transformed into a mask of rage. His fingers gripped the arms of his chair like claws.
    “All right, Sparhawk,” he said. “We’ve pinged your vessel. According to our estimates, you’re correct, you don’t have the fuel to go back to the object and return to Earth in a timely manner. However, you could return and stay on station until a relief ship arrives. I’m hereby ordering you to do exactly that. If you do not comply, I’m going to formally request that you be transferred off my command roster. While I can’t directly revoke your commission, I can assure you that you’ll never see another promotion in the Guard. Make your choice and get back to me. Singh out.”
    Slumping back in my seat with a sigh, I turned to Rumbold. “Kill our engines and begin to glide, Chief.”
    He stared at me for a long moment. “But sir…we aren’t up to cruising speed yet—”
    “Immediately,” I ordered.
    Rumbold reached out and throttled down the engines. We coasted in silence, and weightlessness quickly resumed.
    Rumbold watched me uneasily. “A bad message, sir?”
    “Indeed.”
    “What are your orders, sir?”
    “I’m thinking.”
    He fell quiet. The rest of the crew muttered and watched us curiously. They wanted to know what was going on, but they didn’t quite dare to approach and demand answers. That was just as well as my mood had turned grim.
    Singh had called my bluff. I was within my rights to disobey his order to amend my report. However, he was within his rights as my commanding officer to punish me for my transgressions. He could post me out here as long as necessary to get me to write a report that pleased him.
    I fought to push back my anger and resentment. I’d signed with the Guard, and like it or not, I was subject to the whims of my superiors in situations like this one. As I always did in such moments, I returned to the letter of the law for guidance. Honorable service and the discipline of the Guard, those two pillars always clarified my thinking.
    After surveying the pertinent regulations, I could find no loopholes. Singh could order me to stand this post indefinitely. In the meantime, he could freely trash my reputation with the flag officers, while I was stuck out here, unable to defend myself in person.
    “Rumbold,” I said, “what’s Jimmy’s prognosis?”
    “Pretty good, sir,” he said. “He’s stable, and he’ll make a full recovery after they grow a new hand for him back home.”
    “That’s going to have to wait,” I said.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Captain Singh has seen fit to order us back to the object to reevaluate it. He’ll send a relief ship eventually as we’ll no longer have sufficient fuel to return after complying with his orders.”
    Alarmed, Rumbold tapped rapidly at his board. He slapped a hand to his face and covered his eyes with it when he’d finished.
    “You’re right. It would take years to return without