Courageous

THREE

Alliance Marines entered the main control room of the mining facility, spreading out, using portable gear to check for booby traps. Green lights shone on the many panels in the room, indicating the mining equipment was in full operating condition. The Marine officer who Geary was monitoring stepped close to one panel with multiple red lights blinking. “Maglev rails,” the Marine reported to his superiors, Geary hearing the transmission, too. “That’s the only equipment showing failures. Everything else is up and running.” Instead of sounding happy about that, the Marine seemed worried.

A window popped up in front of Geary, showing Captain Tyrosian frowning. “They didn’t shut down their equipment.”

“No,” Geary agreed.

“This is going to cause a lot of delays,” Tyrosian complained.

“I would have thought powering up the equipment would have taken a while.”

Tyrosian seemed surprised at the question. “Well … yes. If the equipment had been shut down, then we’d have to power up slowly to make certain none of the equipment had been sabotaged mechanically or in its software. You know, worms and such embedded in the operating systems. But it’s already operating, sir.”

Meaning any worms or other destructive programming were also running. Never trust gifts from Syndics. “I see.”

Colonel Carabali’s face reappeared, frowning in tandem with Tyrosian. “Sir, we’re going to have to do a controlled shutdown of everything, do a clean sweep of all systems, then bring them back up one by one.”

Geary exhaled heavily, wondering why this had to be the one thing both his Marines and his engineers agreed upon. “What’s the worst case if we try to operate the systems now?”

“Catastrophic failure of all systems, destructive shutdowns of equipment, fatal damage to the operating environment, individual injuries and fatalities, and loss of all mining facility capabilities,” Tyrosian replied.

“Everything blows up,” the Marine colonel noted succinctly.

Geary nodded. Okay. Bad things happen. “How long to do what we need to do?”

“Estimates will vary widely because of the many factors involved—” Tyrosian began.

“This fleet cannot linger around this mining facility, Captain Tyrosian!” Geary snapped.

“How much of this stuff do we need?” Carabali asked. “To access the stockpiles of elements we require and get the rocks analyzed and loaded?”

Tyrosian made an angry gesture. “You need the mining subsystems. You have to have the main operating systems to issue commands to the mining subsystems. If the safety systems aren’t activated and monitoring activity on the main operating systems and the mining subsystems, then the safety interlocks won’t allow anything to happen.”

“Damn near everything, then,” Geary noted.

Tyrosian nodded.

“We can’t—” He paused as a high-priority message alert blinked, indicating someone wanted to join in his conference with Carabali and the engineer. He took a look at the message alert, seeing the communication was from Titan. Messages from Titan tended to be bad news. Frustrated by the delays, Geary almost slapped the Deny command. I don’t need anyone else complicating things. Hell, how much more complicated can they get? What I need is better options, and maybe whoever this is will have some ideas. Geary paused, counted to five, and tapped Accept instead.

Commander Lommand’s face appeared. Captain of the Titan. Young for his position, but Geary had already learned that Lommand tended to make up for lack of experience with initiative and enthusiasm. Now Lommand appeared slightly regretful. “My apologies for breaking in, Captain Geary, but I was told Captain Tyrosian was tied up in this meeting with you, and I thought she’d want to know immediately that the two Mobile Mining Units on Titan are loaded on heavy-lift shuttles and ready to launch.”

Geary glanced at Tyrosian, who was unsuccessfully trying to look as if she weren’t surprised to hear the news. “Mobile Mining Units?” Geary asked. “Can those help?”

“They can if the equipment at the Syndic mining facilities can’t be used,” Lommand stated innocently. “It seemed a good idea to have them ready in case that happened.”

“Yes,” Tyrosian interjected just as if she had ordered Lommand to do that. “There’s a risk in deploying them, because the two on Titan are all we have left in the fleet, but the MMUs can locate, analyze, and load the Syndic stockpiles of the trace elements we need.”

“What’s the flight time?” Geary demanded, scanning his controls for the right ones to give him the information.

Commander Lommand answered immediately. “Thirty-one minutes if we launch now.”

Colonel Carabali was checking something herself. “We can’t risk having critical equipment down here while the Syndic systems are still operating and capable of executing some Trojan horse action. Carrying out a safe shutdown of the Syndic gear will take approximately … twenty minutes.”

Geary nodded. “What about everything else needed to use the Syndic gear? Should we employ these, uh, MMUs instead?”

“Sir, it’d take at least a couple of hours to go through the Syndic systems and scrub them clean, then maybe another half a day or more to bring them up in a controlled fashion—”

“How quickly can the MMUs start operating once they’re on the surface?” Geary asked the engineers.

“Immediately, sir,” Commander Lommand responded. “Start-up is carried out on board the shuttles. Once the shuttles land, the Moo-Moos roll off the ramp and start grazing.”

Nice. One more little thing that Geary had to depend upon hearing about from his subordinates. Fortunately, one of those subordinates was Commander Lommand. Geary was about to order Lommand to launch his shuttles from Titan when he caught himself and faced Captain Tyrosian, Lommand’s immediate superior. Commander Lommand had jumped the chain of command again, but this time at least he’d done it in a way that looked legitimate by pretending he was updating Tyrosian. “Captain Tyrosian, have Titan launch those shuttles, and get them to that facility. I want them working when they hit the surface. Commander Lommand, thank you for the status update. Colonel Carabali, have your system geeks shut down everything the Syndics left working. I want it all off when Titan’s shuttles get there.”

“Yes, sir,” Carabali replied, smiling thinly. “Do you want us to proceed with scrubbing the systems for sabotage?”

“Not unless it’s needed for the safety of your troops. I don’t intend powering up those systems while we’re there, and as soon as we leave, we’re going to flatten every piece of equipment in the facility.”

Carabali’s smile widened. “Yes, sir.”

As the Marine’s image vanished, Captain Tyrosian gave Geary a confident look, as if this was a plan she’d developed. “I’ve ordered Titan to launch her shuttles, sir.”

“Thank you.” At least Tyrosian had thought on her feet and reacted properly when Lommand broke into the conference. “Good work. Let’s get those rocks and get out of here.”

The windows vanished, leaving just the system display floating in front of Geary. He watched the symbols marking his fleet racing past the moon holding the Syndic mining facility, looping around the gas giant to come past the moon again, then ran some quick calculations to see if he would have to slow the fleet even more due to the delays on the surface.

It looked okay at this point. Not great, and with way too small a margin of error left, but if the mobile mining gear could do the job quickly, he wouldn’t have to burn off further fuel cells braking the fleet’s velocity more.

Geary leaned back, noticing Captain Desjani trying not to look curious. “The Syndics left the equipment running at the mining facility,” he explained to her.

“Bastards,” Desjani replied with a frown. “They knew we’d have to assume it was laced with soft and hard booby traps.”

“Yeah. But Titan has a couple of portable mining things they’re sending down to take care of getting the stockpiles.” Geary looked back to include Rione in the conversation. “The Marines are shutting down the Syndic gear.”

Rione shook her head. “Odds are the Syndics didn’t have time to plant elaborate booby traps in the systems, but we have no choice but to act as if they did.”

“They’ve laid traps everywhere we’ve encountered Syndics.” Geary watched the shuttles from Titan arcing down toward the moon, wishing the enemy was a little less devious and his own fleet’s situation a lot less perilous.

The voice of the chief petty officer supervising Titan’s Mobile Mining Units seemed startled and awed when he heard Geary. “Sir. It’s an honor to speak with you, sir.”

Geary tried not to let his unhappiness at the hero worship show in his voice. The sailors in the fleet were more likely than the officers to believe that Geary had been sent by the living stars themselves to save the Alliance, and this fleet in particular. They were also more likely to believe that Geary really was the mythical hero of the past. But he owed them respect for their faith even as he tried his best not to believe in it himself. “Do you have a moment, Chief? To talk about your gear?” Nothing was happening elsewhere, but Geary felt that he had to stay on the bridge until this mess was over, and anyway Geary was curious about the MMUs.

The view from the chief’s helmet showed one side of the Syndic facility. Big doors giving access to stockpiles of mined and refined minerals had been blown off their hinges by Marines happy to get a head start on wrecking the Syndic installation. The hulking shapes of the two MMUs had crawled on treads across the surface of the moon, crushing or shouldering aside some Syndic safety barriers, and now crouched in front of the accesses.

“Yes, sir,” the chief replied. “The crews on the Moo-Moos are operating their own cows, and I’m just here if needed.”

Cows. The nickname made as much sense as any other for a piece of equipment with the official designation of MMU. “I’m not familiar with your gear, Chief. What can you tell me about it?” He’d already tried looking up information in the online library on Dauntless, only to be submerged by a huge mass of documents, none of which seemed to have a single simple, clear diagram or discussion about the capabilities of the MMUs. After unsuccessfully trying to wade through a mass of complex data, Geary had decided to follow his training as a junior officer; when you needed to know something, ask a chief petty officer.

This particular chief sounded disbelieving that the great Black Jack Geary would really need to be told anything. “The technology hasn’t changed much since … uh … since…”

“In the last century?” Geary asked dryly. “I didn’t know much about it then, Chief. No need arose in those days for me to worry about it.”

“Oh, uh, yes, sir. Well, like I said, the tech hasn’t changed much. It’s simple and robust. Everything that’s been tried as a replacement is more complicated, more expensive, breaks more and, uh, you know.”

“I certainly do, Chief,” Geary agreed, recalling many of the “improvements” to ship systems that had bedeviled him a hundred years ago by creating new problems with equipment that had worked perfectly well before being upgraded into temperamental, buggy pieces of junk. “I’m glad they’ve let you stick with something that works well. What are your cows doing now? Waiting for clearance to enter the facility?”

“No, sir! They won’t have to go any farther in. The cows are sending in worms, sir. Once the worms—”

“Worms?”

“Uh, yes, sir.” The view from the chief’s helmet changed, focusing on the front of one of the Moo-Moos and zooming in. What looked like a nest of very fine wires extended out, the wires leading into the storage buildings. “Do you see the leashes, sir? Every one connects to a worm. We call them that because they’re about the size of worms and work the same way. They eat dirt. Or rock.”

“How do they get through rock?” Geary asked.

“What amounts to really tiny shock cannon mounted around the front mouth. The worm analyzes the rock structure and sends out vibration pulses that shatter the rock right in front of it. Of course, in this case this stuff has already been mined, so they’re going through stocks of solid metal. The worms eat the dust and move on, constantly doing the same thing. As the dust runs through the inside of the worms, molecular-level sensors analyze the content. Then it goes out the back. Just like a worm, like I said, sir.”

“What are the wires for?”

“Command and control, and power. A mining worm has to move a lot faster than a real worm and keep doing it, so they need a lot more energy than a real worm-sized object could hold. And we don’t want stray radiation being emitted in a mining environment—you know, because of explosive gases and detonators and stuff—or have our links to the worms blocked by metals or other stuff, so all the communications to and from the worm run through the line.” The chief’s view pivoted and focused on where the lines ran into the building. “In a normal mining operation the worms go out, dig in below the surface, and find the ore or veins of material you need. In this case, we know where the stockpiles are, so right now the worms are tunneling through the stockpiles, identifying what’s in each one, and looking for contamination or nano-bugs.”

Nano-bugs. Geary knew that much. Tiny devices planted to cause problems in equipment once triggered by heat or pressure. “I thought nano-bugs were outlawed since they were so hard to keep contained.”

He could see the motion caused by the chief’s shrug. “Yes, sir. But there’s a lot of stuff that’s been outlawed, if you know what I mean, sir.”

“Yeah, Chief, I do.” Outlawed didn’t mean it wouldn’t be used. Not in the case of the Syndics, and not in the case of the Alliance either, as Geary had been shocked to learn. Century-long wars too easily bred contempt for life and law. “Any problems identified so far?”

“No, sir. We’re giving the worms time to do a decent sample check, then we’ll send in the moles.”

“Moles?”

“Yes, sir. The moles actually go out and dig down to the stuff, load it on board, then bring it back to the cow. The cows have big moles and little moles, depending on how much you want to recover. And we can hook up a monster mole to a cow if we have to, but Titan’s only got one monster mole. It just digs a big hole and feeds the stuff back through a conveyor tube on its ass.” The chief went silent for a moment, then spoke in a slightly choked voice. “Excuse me, sir, the material is expelled through the aft matter-expulsion portal.”

“I get the idea, Chief.” Geary paused to consider the information, watching as shapes scuttled away from the cows and into the Syndic storage area, each shape trailing its own wire. “Everything looks good, then?”

“Yes, sir. That’s a mix of big and little moles because we’ve got orders to get this stuff loaded and the cows back on the shuttles as fast as possible.”

“Right. Thanks, Chief. I appreciate the rundown.” Geary broke the link, blinking to focus his own eyes back on the display showing his fleet. So far, so good, which was the first time in a while he felt like saying that.

Desjani yawned. “Excuse me, sir.”

“I feel the same way. At least I got to learn about the cows the engineers are using.”

“Cows?” Desjani gave Geary a skeptical look.

“Yeah. Cows with worms and moles.”

She grinned. “Are you sure you weren’t talking to the cooks about what the fleet is feeding us?”

Food. How long had he been on the bridge, anyway? Geary’s stomach rumbled.

Desjani smiled again, dug in one pocket, and offered him a ration bar. “I always carry a few.”

“Thanks. Remind me to say something about your ability to plan ahead when I write your next evaluation.” Geary took the ration bar, debated whether he should read the label or just guess what it contained, then decided he’d rather not know. That was something else that hadn’t changed in a century. In a misguided attempt to satisfy individual tastes and reflect the diversity of the Alliance member worlds, the ration bars were allegedly formulated to fit the widely varying cuisines of many planets and regions. Instead, the flavors the fleet came up with somehow managed to revolt everyone, regardless of place of origin.

He opened the wrapper, took a bite, shuddered, then finally glanced at the label. “Forshukyen Solos? What the hell is that?” Geary checked the fine print. “ ‘A favorite meal on the worlds of the Hokaiden Star System.’ I bet.”

“Try to avoid the Danaka Yoruk bars,” Desjani advised.

“They still make those? When they came out, we wanted them to be traded to the Syndics, but—” But we were afraid the Syndics would start a war if we did. That joke was a lot funnier before the Syndics did start a war.

Desjani had the sense not to ask about the way Geary had broken off his sentence. “I think they stopped making those bars a long time ago but are still trying to get rid of the ones they made.” She laughed, the lines worn by years of war easing and her face looking younger than usual.

Geary grinned back at her, grateful that even with someone who thought him a mythical hero he could complain about the fleet’s food. The familiar banter made him feel less out of place, offering a connection to the people and places he’d once known.

The trace elements his auxiliaries needed were rapidly flowing into Titan’s cows. Geary studied the movement of his fleet, feeling a headache rising again as he saw how close the timeline was now. Even the smallest delay would require him to waste time and fuel cells in a braking maneuver.

As if on cue, an alert pulsed on his display tracking the situation on the moon’s surface. Even as Geary was focusing on it, Colonel Carabali’s face appeared again. “The Syndics in the mine shafts are trying to come out. They’re exchanging fire with the Marines guarding the exits from the shafts.”

The last thing he needed was a ground engagement. Maybe the Syndics had figured that out and were willing to expend some of their people just to slow the Alliance fleet down a little more. Geary took a deep breath, leaning back to think, and his eyes came to rest on the fleet display. Oh, hell. For once this is easy. “Colonel Carabali, prepare to pull your Marines back toward the shuttles. Make sure Titan’s cows remain covered until they’re loaded and their shuttles take off.”

The Marine colonel frowned slightly. “Cows, sir?”

“The Moo-Moos.” That sounded ridiculous. “The Mobile Mining Units.”

“Oh. Yes, sir. Sir, the moment we start pulling my Marines back, the Syndics are going to come out of those holes.”

“I don’t think so, Colonel. Not with Exemplar and Braveheart throwing hell lances at them. How big a no-fire zone do you need to be comfortable with those ships firing near your Marines?”

Carabali’s frown deepened. “With all due respect, sir, we prefer to be as far away as possible when the fleet is bombarding an area.”

Understandable, perhaps, but not too helpful. Geary looked over at Desjani. “How accurate should hell-lance fire from Exemplar and Braveheart be if they start shooting at the Syndics on the surface again? The Marines are worried.”

Desjani snorted. “With those two ships that close to the targets and at a dead stop relative to them? It’d be impossible under those circumstances for a hell lance to miss a target by any meaningful margin of error, by which I mean something measured in less than a centimeter. Those Marines could be ten meters away from an aim point and be perfectly safe.”

Geary didn’t think he’d personally be willing to stand ten meters from a hell-lance aim point but didn’t say so aloud. “Colonel, how about two hundred meters for a no fire zone between your Marines and the bombardment from the ships?”

“Could you make it three hundred, sir?”

Oh, for—Then again, I did order the Marines into the facility in the face of the possibility it was a trap. I owe them one. “All right. Three hundred. Once your closest Marine is three hundred meters away from the mine shafts occupied by the Syndics, Exemplar and Braveheart will open fire on any Syndics trying to leave the shafts.”

The Marine’s face brightened. “Could you make it a rolling barrage, sir? As my people pull back, the ships can walk their bombardment through the facility behind them, getting a head start on demolishing it and discouraging pursuit.”

“Excellent suggestion, Colonel. I’ll pass those orders on to Exemplar and Braveheart.” Another message popped up. “The cows have picked up everything we need and are on the way to their shuttles.”

“I’ll prepare my Marines to fall back toward them.” Carabali’s image saluted and vanished.

Geary called up the two scout battleships, ensured they understood their orders, and added a requirement to ensure the facility was wrecked except for one small set of rooms and their associated life support. Life wouldn’t be easy for the Syndics left behind until the inhabited world in this system sent ships to lift them off, but since they could easily have been slaughtered to the last individual by the Alliance ships, Geary didn’t think they had any grounds for complaints.

Things were finally happening again, though at a seemingly glacial pace as the symbols marking Marines and the cows fell back toward their respective shuttles. Used to dealing with velocities measured in tenths of the speed of light, Geary found himself amazed at how long it took something on the surface to go a few hundred meters.

It took the Syndics a very short while to figure out that the Marines were withdrawing; then scattered figures began pouring out of the exits from the mine shafts. But the nearest Alliance Marines were still within three hundred meters. Geary crossed his fingers, but both scout battleships held their fire as the Syndics moved in pursuit of the slowly withdrawing Marines.

At this rate the Marines would never get three hundred meters from the enemy.

But maybe that wouldn’t matter. Exemplar and then Braveheart opened fire, their hell lances dancing across the area near the mine shaft exits, the charged-particle spears slashing through metal, rock, and human bodies. Geary stared as symbols marking Syndics simply vanished in quick succession as hell lances scored direct hits on the individual enemies and vaporized them as well as everything else in the immediate area.

The Syndics closest to the Marines were still within three hundred meters, but their movement halted as they saw the havoc being wreaked behind them. A natural reaction, and exactly the wrong one. The Marines kept withdrawing, the nearest enemies fell outside the three hundred meter no-fire zone, and the hell lances blew the Syndic defenders to atoms.

No more enemy shapes could be seen on the surface by the fleet’s sensors. It was possible a few members of the Syndic pursuit force had survived, hidden under the wreckage of the facility as Exemplar and Braveheart enthusiastically pounded it into scrap. But it didn’t matter, since nothing moved in the firing zone now but structures collapsing and debris flying away from the sites of hits.

Safely separated from the devastation, the shuttles carrying the cows lifted from the surface. Around them, the last Marines were falling back by sections into their own shuttles. As Geary watched, the Marine shuttles leaped into space behind the heavy-lift shuttles loaded with the cows, escorting the trace elements needed back to Titan, from which they could be distributed to the other auxiliaries.

Another two minutes and Geary would have had to slow the fleet down to allow the shuttles to catch up. But the shuttles could still manage an intercept now.

He let out a long breath. One more crisis surmounted.

I wonder what the next one will be.

“Congratulations to everyone who helped make the last operation a success.” Geary nodded toward Colonel Carabali, Captain Tyrosian, and Commander Lommand, and the commanding officers of Exemplar and Braveheart. “Captain Tyrosian informs me that the necessary trace elements are being distributed among the four auxiliaries as we speak. Expendable weapons and fuel cells the auxiliaries have already manufactured have been delivered to warships. As soon as the final deliveries have been made and the shuttles recovered, we’ll head for the jump point out of Baldur.”

Not everyone seemed to share Geary’s sentiments about Tyrosian and Lommand. Captain Casia from Conqueror and Commander Yin from Orion smiled approvingly at the commanding officers of the scout battleships but bent lowered brows toward the two engineering officers. Geary took a moment to scan down the very long virtual table, trying to gauge how many other commanding officers were following the lead of Casia and Yin. There didn’t seem to be many, but it wasn’t easy to tell, and Geary suspected his most dangerous opponents within the fleet wouldn’t be as obvious about their hostility as Casia and Yin.

Still, it was both aggravating and important to know that those who disapproved of Geary’s command of the fleet were trying to use the engineers as a wedge issue with the other ship commanders.

“Captain Geary,” a new voice spoke up. It took Geary a moment to realize who it was, aided by the meeting software, which helpfully highlighted a name not far down the table. Captain Badaya of the Illustrious. He was also commander of what was left of the Sixth Battle Cruiser Division, which now consisted only of Illustrious and Incredible. “Captain Geary,” Badaya repeated slowly, as if still thinking through his words, “before we discuss other matters, there’s something I wanted to bring up. We face major difficulties to get back to Alliance space and can’t spend much time considering means of harming the Syndics where it will hurt them the most. The sort of thing we did at Sancere. I’ve been thinking about what happened at Sancere.”

That could mean many things, and Badaya didn’t seem to be challenging his authority, so Geary just nodded to acknowledge the statement and waited.

“The hypernet gate at Sancere,” Badaya suggested. “When it collapsed, there was an energy pulse that strained the shields of our ships. I understand that the actions of Dauntless, Daring, and Diamond prevented the pulse from being even worse.” He paused.

Badaya’s words were straying onto territory that Geary preferred to avoid, but he couldn’t think of any way to shut down the other officer without drawing even more attention to the topic. For once, Geary was grateful that Victoria Rione wasn’t present in the meeting. If she had been, he probably couldn’t have avoided a quick look her way that might have conveyed to others that she and Geary shared information that they hadn’t provided to the others present. “That’s correct,” Geary stated calmly.

“Could we use that?” Badaya wondered. “It might offer the means to inflict serious damage on enemy star systems as we make our way home, and in a small fraction of the time required to reduce a system using conventional means.”

It might indeed. It might also trigger the genocidal warfare that Geary feared. He was searching for an answer, knowing that whatever he said might have very serious repercussions, when Captain Cresida answered in regretful tones. “Captain Geary asked me about that,” she stated, “and I had to tell him that the energy output seems to be unpredictable. It might amount to a lot less than we experienced, or even nothing.”

Captain Tulev nodded judiciously. “And we hope to use such a gate to get home.” No one disagreed with that. Instead of having to skip from star to star using the old jump drives, the hypernet could not only take them directly to a Syndic star system bordering on the Alliance but also do it far faster than travel through jump space. “If we destroyed it instead, we couldn’t use it.”

“Loss of benefit to us and the chance of no damage to the Syndic star system,” Captain Duellos observed. “An interesting suggestion, Captain Badaya, but it may not be practical for us.”

Badaya frowned but nodded as well. “That’s true. I guess it’s not a viable option right now. We should keep it in mind, though.”

Geary tried to look thoughtful. “Thank you, Captain. That’s an intriguing possibility. I appreciate you bringing it up.” Like hell. I wish you’d never said a word. Forgive me the lie, ancestors. It’s not to benefit me but to possibly save uncounted others. He lowered his head for a moment, thinking and wondering at the way both Cresida and Tulev had jumped in to quash the idea of using hypernet gates as weapons. Cresida knew, of course, because she’d developed the targeting algorithms that had kept Sancere’s hypernet gate from putting out a nova-scale blast. But Tulev didn’t. Or did he? Was there a group of officers aware that hypernet gates could be used to wipe out the human race in a mutual burst of genocide, and determined to help Geary suppress that knowledge as long as possible?

What would they do with that knowledge in the long run if they decided Geary wasn’t using it properly?

He had to move on, get the subject out of the minds of the officers present. Fortunately, he had just the topic guaranteed to do that. “I’ve been considering our next course of action. As you know, I intended taking the fleet to Wendaya from here. I’ve been reconsidering that.”

A ripple of reaction ran around the virtual table. Geary studied the expressions of his commanding officers, not liking what he was seeing. Enthusiasm seemed nonexistent, even among his firmest supporters. But only Captain Casia spoke out. “We’re barely closer to Alliance space now than when we left the Syndic home system,” he complained.

“I didn’t bring this fleet to the Syndic home system,” Geary reminded Casia. “It’s a long way home. I can’t help that.” He paused, gauging reactions again. Too many officers were gazing at the star display with resigned or worried expressions. “We need to try something different, though. We’ve been avoiding jumping along a straight line to Alliance space to avoid Syndic traps, but the Syndics are starting to figure out that we’re doing that.”

He had them again, every officer listening closely, but Casia swept a hand toward the display. “We’re not going to retreat again, are we?”

The question was perfectly phrased, so perfectly that Geary wondered if Casia had come up with it himself or if a more capable officer opposed to Geary had fed him the line. It was exactly the sort of query that would undermine Geary and any plan he suggested.

But it appeared he’d been able to outmaneuver his adversaries in the fleet this time. “No,” Geary informed Casia, his eyes hard. “I intend taking the fleet on a dash toward Alliance space, seeing how far we can get before the Syndics figure out what we’re trying and attempt to tighten the noose around this fleet again. We should be able to make substantial distance toward home and throw off Syndic plans based on the assumption that we won’t act that way.”

Faces brightened all along the table, though this time Geary noted that Captains Duellos, Tulev, and Cresida seemed a bit wary, as if concerned that he had conceded to Casia. There wasn’t anything he could do to make everyone happy, it seemed.

Then again, it wasn’t his duty to make people happy.

Geary pointed at the display. “Instead of jumping for Wendaya, from here we’ll go to Sendai, then straight through to Daiquon, and if everything seems clear, on to Ixion.” Bright lines appeared on the display, forming a slightly bent arrow aimed at Alliance space.

“That’ll take us almost a third of the remaining distance home!” Commander Neeson noted with a smile.

“Surely the Syndics will figure out our path before we reach Ixion,” Captain Mosko of the battleship Defiant replied with a worried expression.

“I would think so,” Captain Tulev agreed. “Captain Geary, do I understand properly that we will evaluate the situation in each star system before jumping to the next?”

“That’s correct,” Geary confirmed. “I expect the Syndics to figure out we’ve changed our approach to getting back to Alliance space. Once they do so, they’ll be able to use their hypernet system to shift forces more rapidly than we can move and set up blocking forces again. But I think we’ve got a very good chance of making Daiquon without serious opposition, and a decent chance of being able to get to Ixion.”

He seemed to have them. Geary felt a momentary rush of annoyance, angry that he had to convince them rather than just tell them what to do. It wasn’t like he’d made endless mistakes since reluctantly assuming command of this fleet. But it seemed he had to prove himself again every day to the doubters. “We’ll take advantage of the times in jump space for the auxiliaries to manufacture more fuel cells and expendable munitions, and distribute those among the other ships during our transits of Sendai and Daiquon. If we proceed on to Ixion, I want us to be ready for anything.”

Captain Casia was still frowning. “And after Ixion? Will we continue toward home?”

Geary fought down an intense desire to wrap his hands around Casia’s neck. Fortunately, just the mental image of Casia’s face turning purple as Geary squeezed cheered Geary enough to calm him before he replied. “This fleet’s course is ultimately always toward home,” he stated evenly. “But I’m not making detailed plans four star systems ahead. We will have to take into account what the Syndics are doing by the time we reach Ixion.”

“If we maintain the initiative—”

“The Syndics can move faster than us, Captain Casia. They have the advantage of a hypernet they can use.” Why did he have to explain something so simple?

Commander Yin spoke up again as if she had been encouraged by some sign Geary had missed. “Returning this fleet to Alliance space as quickly as possible is critical to the war effort,” she noted as if uttering a profound observation.

“If this fleet doesn’t survive to reach Alliance space,” Captain Duellos drawled, “it won’t do much for the war effort.”

“We’re fighting our way home,” Captain Desjani added with a glare at Yin. “We’re inflicting damage on the Syndics every step of the way home.”

Instead of replying, Commander Yin bent one corner of her mouth as she looked at Desjani, as if her words were somehow amusing. Desjani obviously caught the expression, too, her face hardening. But before she could say anything else, Captain Tulev spoke up. “We’re also tying up most of the Syndic fleet trying to find us and stop us,” Tulev tossed in blandly. “They can’t take advantage of our absence from Alliance space to attack the Alliance, because they need to use almost everything they have to hunt us.”

Commander Yin glanced around, didn’t see whatever she was looking for, and subsided with a dark expression.

It was past time to say something to remind everyone that they were part of the same fleet. “The Alliance needs us home,” Geary stated in a quiet voice that required all of the other officers to listen closely. “The Alliance ships that didn’t accompany this fleet and are now holding off the Syndics are surely counting on us getting back. The Syndics are just as desperately trying to stop us from getting home. Every day this fleet continues to operate behind Syndic lines is a victory for the Alliance and a defeat for the Syndics. When we get home, we’ll do so with our heads held high and with a Syndic fleet that’s a lot smaller, thanks to the victories we’ve already won and will continue to win. Our ancestors will be proud of us.” He paused. Everyone was watching him, but there didn’t seem to be anything else he should add. “Thank you. You’ll get maneuvering orders for the jump to Sendai within the hour.”

The images of ship commanders disappeared like a flurry of soap bubbles vanishing under a strong wind. Captain Desjani, still glowering toward the place where Commander Yin had appeared to be seated, stood up and with a mumbled, “Excuse me, sir,” quickly departed the room.

That left one image still seated, now leaning back, boots resting on the table surface. If he hadn’t known it was a projection reflecting the actions of a man on another ship, Geary would have sworn the other officer was actually here with him. “Captain Duellos,” Geary greeted the image of the man. “Thanks for staying.”

Duellos’s virtual presence smiled. “It’s not that much of a hardship.”

“I’m still grateful.” Geary sat down again and sighed. “There were a couple of things I wanted to ask you.”

“Is something wrong? Or perhaps I should ask, is something else wrong?”

Geary made a twisted smile, and he nodded to acknowledge the point. “Nothing that didn’t come up at the meeting, I think.”

“The usual subsurface intrigue and counterproductive debate,” Duellos observed, examining his fingernails.

“Yeah.” Routine not-quite-disrespectful-or-mutinous behavior from some of the fleet’s officers. “I am curious about something.”

The figure of Duellos stood up, walked over to the seat opposite Geary, and sat down. “Policy issues? Personnel?”

“Both. First, what can you tell me about Captain Casia?”

Duellos’s lip curled. “An officer of very modest gifts, so modest that he was even outshone by Captain Numos. Are you wondering why he was so big a pain at the last fleet conference and now this one?”

“Yeah.”

“Because both Numos and Captain Faresa are currently under arrest. That leaves an abuse-of-power vacuum within the Third Battleship Division,” Duellos noted. “As you may have guessed, that division has been a dumping ground for problem commanding officers.”

Geary pondered that. In his time, with so few capital ships available, the idea of devoting a division of battleships to isolating problem officers would have been unthinkable. “How serious a problem is Casia?”

“Hard to say,” Duellos admitted, his image frowning. “Alone, he’s most likely to do damage by messing up badly. But if he serves as a rallying point for those who want to contest your command, he could be a dangerous figurehead for more capable officers who want to keep their true motivations hidden.”

Unfortunately, that assessment matched Geary’s worst fears. “Would you feel comfortable speculating on who those other officers might be?”

Duellos let his discomfort show. “I would prefer not to do so, sir. If I had evidence or direct knowledge, it would be one thing. But I’m very hesitant to accuse others based on speculation.”

“I understand. Frankly, I don’t want to be the sort of commander who tries to spy out subordinates who might be troublemakers.” He’d never imagined being that kind of commander, actually, because a century ago the fleet’s culture wouldn’t have accepted such behavior.

“It’s not exactly unheard of,” Duellos suggested. “As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, you’re going against the common practice for a fleet commander by not conducting espionage against your own subordinate commanders to find out who can be trusted and who cannot.”

For some reason, that brought an ironic smile to Geary’s lips. “A century ago a fleet commander was expected to be qualified to make such judgments without spying on subordinates.”

“A simpler time. Like much else, current practice is excused by the fact that we’re in a war for survival.”

“It makes a great excuse, doesn’t it? But I can’t imagine our ancestors look upon it with favor.” Geary shook his head. “I refuse to conduct a witch hunt among my officers.”

Duellos eyed Geary for a long moment. “And if the price for your honor is the loss of this fleet and the loss of the war for the Alliance?”

“Are you trying to convince me to act against my own officers based on suspicions?” Geary asked. “I’m surprised.”

“And disappointed?” Duellos waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. “I happen to believe that if this fleet makes it home, it will be because we remembered the honor of our ancestors.” His gaze shifted to the star field on one bulkhead. “It seems so obvious, really. Deplorable practices adopted during the last century were repeatedly declared necessary if regrettable in order to win the war. Oddly enough, we’ve yet to win. You’d think somebody would have asked before this why the regrettable but necessary measures haven’t actually produced the promised results. Not until you came along and started us really thinking about it instead of just accepting it.” Duellos sighed. “No, I’m just playing devil’s advocate, Captain Geary. Every commander needs someone like that, don’t they?”

“At least one,” Geary agreed.

“And you have not only me but also Co-President Rione.” Duellos gave Geary a speculative look. “How’s that going? If I may ask.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“She’s a strong woman, and a hard woman, and as respected as any politician can be among the fleet.”

“I have plenty of experience with the first two descriptions, and I don’t doubt the last.” Geary shrugged. “She’s been distant since Ilion. I don’t know why. She won’t say.”

“The commanders of ships from the Rift Federation and the Callas Republic have confided in me that Co-President Rione has been uncharacteristically disengaged lately,” Duellos observed. “She seems to be more distant with them as well.”

“That’s odd.” I’ve been assuming I did something. But then why would Rione be acting the same way to the ships from her own republic? From all I’ve seen of her, Rione has a lot of personal concern for those ships and their crews. “I’ll see what I can find out. It’s certainly puzzling to see that kind of behavior from someone like Rione.”

Duellos nodded.

“Speaking of puzzles, though, I’ve noticed something that I don’t understand. My latest thorn in my side, Captain Casia, is a battleship commander,” Geary noted.

“Yes,” Duellos agreed, clearly wondering why Geary had brought that up.

“So are, or were, people like Numos, Faresa, and Kerestes. Meanwhile, I’ve got commanders like you, Desjani, Tulev, and Cresida who are excellent officers and all command battle cruisers.” Duellos spread his hands in a self-mocking gesture of humility and nodded. “Why?”

“Why?” Duellos repeated, perplexed now.

“Why are my battleship commanders of lower quality than my battle cruiser commanders?” Geary asked bluntly.

Duellos had the look of a man who’d just been asked why space was dark. “That’s the way the fleet works. The most promising officers go to the battle cruisers. Those who aren’t judged good enough to command battle cruisers go to battleships.”

Geary waited, but Duellos seemed to think the arrangement didn’t require further explanation. “Okay, that’s how things work. But why? In my day, battleships were seen as the highest and most prestigious command. Battle cruisers were important, too, but ranked below battleships.”

It may have been the first time that Geary actually startled Duellos. “Are you serious? But battleships are slow. Ponderous. They’re powerful, but they don’t lead the fleet into battle!”

“Lead the fleet?”

“Yes!” Duellos made a sweeping gesture. “Battle cruisers are fast. They lead the charges, they make the first contact with the enemy—”

“They die faster and more frequently because they lack the same level of protection that battleships have,” Geary interrupted.

“Naturally,” Duellos agreed, still seeming baffled. “We don’t go into battle to hide behind armor. We go to fight. And the battle cruisers are in the forefront of the fight.”

It suddenly made sense. A fleet culture that valued combat above everything else, that saw the highest virtue in coming to grips with the enemy as fast as possible, that had grown to disdain anything that could be called defensive in favor of always seeking to be on the attack. Of course the best officers would aspire to command the most offensive-oriented ships, and the least regarded officers would be sent to the ships that emphasized defensive capability along with their massive armament.

But there was a serious problem with that way of thinking. Geary wondered if he had finally discovered one of the things that had worked to cripple leadership in the fleet. “Captain Duellos, think about what the fleet is doing. It’s been putting its best officers on the ships most likely to die and keeping its worst officers on the ships that are most heavily protected. Doesn’t that strike you as a fairly insane way of doing business in the long run?”

Duellos frowned in thought. “I hadn’t considered it in that light. But the fleet needs its best in the fastest and less heavily armored ships. A less-capable officer can survive in a battleship because they’re much harder to kill, you see.”

Geary couldn’t help a sudden laugh. “The system is designed to protect less capable officers?”

This time Duellos’s frown was deeper. “I’ve never heard it put that way. The usual way of thinking is that the defenses of a battleship can compensate for any shortcomings in its commanding officer.”

That almost made sense in a strange way. “Do the Syndics do the same thing?”

“I don’t know,” Duellos admitted. “I assume so.”

If so, at least both sides had been working to wipe out their best officers as quickly as possible. Once again Geary wondered why an intelligent alien race would need to take measures against humanity when the human race kept demonstrating great skill and enthusiasm at working against itself. “At least now I understand something important. Just between you and me, I think this is a crazy way of doing things, but for now I obviously can’t change it.” If he kept losing battle cruisers, he’d also keep losing his best senior officers. But there wasn’t any way he knew of to keep those battle cruisers out of combat when the fleet clashed with the Syndics. Even his best officers wouldn’t accept that. It was too contrary to the way they’d been trained, the way they believed, the way they’d always fought. But I’d better think of a way to preserve my battle cruisers, or this fleet is doomed. “Is there anything else I should know that I haven’t figured out already?”

Duellos frowned and seemed to hesitate. “You’re aware that your opponents in the fleet continue to spread rumors in an attempt to diminish your standing.”

“Yeah. Old news. Are they saying anything new?”

Another, deeper, frown. “I’m of two minds about telling you, Captain Geary. But you surely noticed the byplay between Captain Desjani and Commander Yin toward the end of the conference.”

“Yes, I did. What was that?”

Duellos spoke with clear reluctance. “I doubt that Captain Desjani has heard, unless someone claiming to be a friend has passed on the rumors, but you should probably be aware that some of the rumors claim that you and Captain Desjani enjoy a close relationship.”

It was Geary’s turn to frown. “I take it you mean something more than a close professional relationship.”

Duellos nodded, his expression reflecting distaste at having to discuss the matter.

“Are they claiming I’m cheating on Rione? I thought the whole fleet knew about her.”

“Apparently you’re able to keep two women happy,” Duellos replied, then quirked a sardonic smile. “One man allegedly able to keep the likes of Rione and Desjani contented. By all rights that should enhance your reputation, I’d think.”

“It’s not exactly funny,” Geary responded.

“No. It implicates not just your honor but also Captain Desjani’s, and for that matter Co-President Rione’s.” Duellos shrugged. “Anyone seen as your ally is fair game for those who oppose you.”

“Including you?”

Duellos nodded silently, and Geary shook his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised. But I’ll watch my step with Desjani, ensuring there’s nothing that even the most twisted mind could warp into some kind of improper action between us.”

“Twisted minds are enormously inventive,” Duellos pointed out. “If you were on my ship, they’d probably be spreading the same rumors about you and me.”

“No offense, Captain Duellos, but you’re not my type.”

“None taken,” Duellos replied with a grin. “Besides, my wife would look askance on such a relationship.”

“Women can be like that,” Geary agreed, recalling that Duellos had a family back in Alliance space, then couldn’t help a small, derisive smile. “For a guy allegedly with two women, I’m sure not getting lucky very often.”

“Look at the bright side,” Duellos offered. “If you really were cheating on Rione with Desjani, or vice versa, one or both of those women would surely kill you and laugh as they watched you die. Women can be like that, too.”

“They can indeed. Especially women like Rione and Desjani. Thanks for the heads-up on those rumors. I don’t want anyone’s honor questioned on my account.” Geary hesitated as another question came to mind along with memories of Rione. “That stuff that Captain Badaya brought up, about the hypernet gates…”

Duellos nodded calmly. “We managed to defuse that.”

“How much do you know about that?”

“Species extinction.” Captain Duellos leaned back again, closing his eyes for a moment. “Supernovas or novas going off in every star system with a hypernet gate in it. Commander, pardon me, Captain Cresida has let a small group of us know of the potential threat. She anticipated you might need backing up on the matter.” Opening his eyes, Duellos gave Geary a serious look. “I hope you won’t be angry with her. I think Cresida was wise to tell a few of us, as you saw during this conference when the subject came up.”

“I did see that,” Geary admitted. “You’re right. She was smart to do it. I’m frankly afraid for anyone to know, but if we’re to prevent the worst from happening, some people have to know.”

“Who else have you told?”

“Only Co-President Rione.”

“Ah. An Alliance senator.” Duellos grimaced. “The Alliance Senate would vote to use the gates, to explode the ones within Syndic space. You know that, don’t you?”

“That’s was Rione’s assessment, too. And the Syndics would have time to figure out what we were doing and retaliate in kind.”

Duellos nodded, suddenly looking older. “If you get this fleet home, you carry with it the knowledge to wipe out the human race.”

“Yup.” Geary slumped and rubbed his forehead. “Do you want to take over command?”

“Not on your life.” Duellos’s eyes strayed to the star display. “Perhaps the living stars have decided humanity is a hopeless case.”

“The living stars didn’t create the hypernet gates,” Geary replied, his voice harsh.

“If they guided us, it’s the same—”

“Someone … something else gave us that technology. I’m sure of it.”

Duellos pondered the words for a long time before answering. “Some thing. Nonhuman?”

“That’s my guess. Rione agrees with it. We think they’re on the far side of Syndic space.”

“An interesting idea.” Another long pause. “They gave us poison wrapped in candy and are just waiting for us to pop it into our mouths?”

“Maybe.” Geary made a gesture toward the star display. “We can only guess at their motivations. They’re right that humanity is just stupid enough to take their gift and wipe itself out, but they forgot something else about people.”

Duellos raised a questioning eyebrow. “And that would be?”

“We hate being told what to do, and we’re very unpredictable.”

The other officer smiled. “True. May I share this information?”

“Yeah.” Geary thought a moment. “Tell the same people who know about the hypernet gates. I’ve been so afraid of what might happen if the wrong people hear that I forgot to make sure more of the right people know what’s going on. Just in case something happens to me.”

Duellos frowned again. “Bad as we’ve become, assassination of superior officers has never been a path to advancement in the Alliance fleet.”

Geary couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. But, you know, there’s a war on. People get hurt.”

“So I’ve heard.” Duellos stood slowly, his face thoughtful. “The stakes keep rising, and the responsibility ultimately rests on you. How are you doing?”

“Lousy.”

Duellos nodded. “If worse comes to worst, and you are lost in combat, I’ll do my best. With everything. You have my word on the honor of my ancestors.”

Geary stood as well, reaching to grasp the shoulder of the image and remembering in time to just mimic the gesture. “I never doubted that. Thank you, my friend.”

Duellos saluted, Geary returned the gesture, and the image vanished, leaving Geary truly alone again.