Dauntless

EIGHT

Nothing.

They left jump space at full alert, ready for the worst, knowing they might find mines laid in their paths and a Syndic fleet right behind the mines. Knowing they might have to fight their way through that fleet if they wanted to survive another day. But only emptiness greeted the nervous searches of Alliance targeting systems.

The Kaliban Star System, as far as the best instruments available to the Alliance could tell, was totally lifeless. Nothing alive that could be seen, no spacecraft in motion, and not even the feeble warmth given off by a single piece of equipment even in standby mode could be detected. There had been people living here once, but now everything in Kaliban was cold, everything in Kaliban was silent.

“No mines, praise our ancestors,” Captain Desjani exulted. “That means our arrival here was totally unexpected. You outguessed them, Captain Geary.”

“I guess I did.” No sense in false modesty. We came here because I said so, and only because I said so. “Kaliban’s not much of a place now, is it?”

“It never was much of a place.”

Five planets, two of them so small they barely qualified for the name. All hostile to human habitation because of temperatures either far too low or far too high, and atmospheres either nonexistent or toxic. Plus the usual assortment of rocks and ice balls, though even those didn’t seem very numerous or noteworthy compared to other star systems. Nonetheless, people had built homes here. Kaliban didn’t have anything special at all, except for the gravity well provided by its star that made jump points work. Geary could imagine the human history of Kaliban’s system easily, because the same things had happened in so many other places.

Ships had been forced to come through Kaliban to get to other places before the hypernet. And because there’d been ships coming through, there’d been a shipyard or two or three built to handle emergencies and provide maintenance or supplies to the passing ships, as well as work on the ships that stayed in-system to transport workers and their families. The shipyards and the families had needed some services, so small towns had grown up in a few places. Buried under the soil of a hostile world or burrowed out of a large asteroid, they’d provided the things small towns had always provided. Some of the ships coming through would carry passengers or cargo bound for Kaliban. And of course there’d been mines to provide local raw materials instead of hauling mass from another star, and people to work in the mines, and a local government to keep things under control, and representatives of the central Syndic authority to keep the local government under control.

The rest Geary knew only from what he’d heard. The hypernet had come into existence and the ships didn’t need to come through Kaliban, or the innumerable systems like it, anymore. The shipyards had closed as their lifeblood dwindled to a trickle, and without those jobs the small towns started dying. Once there’d been no particular reason to come to Kaliban except for the jump points. Now there wasn’t any reason to stay at Kaliban. How many years did the last holdouts hang on? Maybe not all that long. In a Syndic system, everyone would’ve been a company employee of some sort, and companies cut their losses long before most individual people are willing to give up. There’s no one left now. All the installations we can see are cold. No energy usage, no environmental systems working. They shut down everything. I guess the last person who left Kaliban remembered to turn off the lights.

Measured in the life span of a star, the human presence here had lasted the barest flicker of a moment. For some reason, seeing that and knowing it brought the sense of cold back to Geary.

Then he shook it off. Every sailor learned one thing quickly, and that one thing was that everything about space was inhuman. The sheer size of it, the emptiness of it, the death it carried everywhere except for those very, very small places amid the emptiness where humans could walk on a planet’s surface with their faces bare to the wind and breathe the air. It isn’t good and it isn’t bad, the old saying went, it just is.

It’s too big for us, and we’re only here for the blink of eye as far as it’s concerned, an old chief had told Geary when he was so young an officer it almost hurt to remember. Someday, any day, it could take you, because even though it doesn’t care about us, it’ll kill us in an instant if it can. Then, if your prayers to the living stars are answered, you’ll get to go live forever in their warmth and light. If not, you’d best make the best of the life you’ve got. Speaking of which, did I ever tell you about the time my old ship visited Virago? Now that was a party.

Geary became aware he was smiling, recalling that old chief and the often outrageous space stories he’d told. “Captain Desjani, I’m planning on putting the fleet in orbit around Kaliban. Please let me know if you have any recommendations regarding the exact orbit.”

She gave him a mildly surprised look. “We’re going to stay here?”

“Long enough to see what sort of equipment and materials the Syndics might’ve abandoned out here.” He’d reviewed the status of the fleet’s ships during the jump from Corvus and hadn’t been happy to see how low some ships were getting on essentials. Nobody was close to critical yet, but then they were nowhere close to getting home, either. And there was something else he needed to do that required the ships to be in normal space. Something that had to be done before the fleet faced battle again.

Desjani nodded. “Good thing the food stockpiles at the Syndic base in Corvus were available. It seems unlikely we’ll find much food here.”

“I agree.” Geary pondered his options, then ordered his ships to cut their speed to one hundredth of the speed of light and let the Alliance fleet drift slowly inward toward Kaliban. That would allow time to evaluate what the fleet’s sensors were telling him about the shut-down Syndic facilities in the system. Time to learn what the Syndics might’ve left behind that his fleet could use. And time to talk to his ship commanders.

Captain Duellos called in. “I recommend posting some battle cruisers at the jump exit again to guard it.”

Geary shook his head. “Not this time. I want the fleet together. We can’t be positioned to exploit whatever the Syndics left in this system and also be positioned to support a force guarding the jump exit.”

“Very well, Captain Geary.”

Desjani gave Geary a hard-to-read look. “Duellos never liked Admiral Bloch, you know.”

“I didn’t know.”

“He didn’t think Bloch made wise decisions. It’s interesting to see Duellos agreeing so readily to your decisions.”

Geary smiled tightly. “I guess I haven’t made too many mistakes yet.”

Desjani grinned, then turned to study a message coming in on her display. “My operations officer recommends we take up position in the system at this orbital location.” Geary craned to look, seeing an area about two light-hours in-system from the jump exit. He compared the location to the orbits of the Syndic facilities that had already been spotted, then nodded. “Looks good for now. Let’s head for there. Please let the other ships know the orbit we’re planning to take up and that they should maintain formation on Dauntless.”

“Yes, sir.” Desjani started giving the necessary orders while Geary bent to his display, studying the data coming in.

He’d barely begun considering the reports being received on what could be learned about the Syndic facilities, and realizing he’d have to send scout teams down to find out enough about what was actually present at most of them, when he received a call from the commanding officer of Titan. Great. Now what’s wrong?

But there wasn’t any urgency or worry on the face of the officer calling Geary. Titan’s Captain seemed far too young for the job, but he acted and sounded confident enough. “Greetings, Captain Geary.”

“Greetings. Is this about a problem with Titan?”

“No, sir. We’re making more progress on the damage every day and have full propulsion capability back.”

Geary actually smiled slightly at the news. “That’s a relief. I have to admit that Titan’s been on my mind a lot.”

Titan’s Captain got the reference, making an exaggerated flinch. “We appreciate the efforts of our many escorts in keeping us safe. Well, relatively safe. We had considerable damage to deal with and appreciated not having to add to the list of things that needed fixed.”

Geary grinned this time. The lack of opposition in the Kaliban Star System had left him feeling in very good humor for once. “I can understand that. You’ve done a great job repairing your ship. What can I do for you now?”

“I’d like to offer a suggestion and a request.” A small window popped up with a depiction of Kaliban’s system. “We’ve been able to confirm that there were mining facilities here.”

“Yeah. All shut down like everything else, of course.”

“Yes, but assuming they’re intact, I’ve got people who ought to be able to reactivate the automated mining equipment. From the looks of things, Kaliban’s inhabitants never could’ve made a big dent in the supply of metals in the system, and we could really use those metals to fabricate new parts and weapons for the ships of this fleet.”

Geary leaned back, considering the suggestion. “Can you refine whatever ore we get, or would we need to reactivate Syndic metal-handling facilities?”

Titan’s Captain waved a dismissive hand. “Not a problem, sir. I’m certain of it. Some of the mines we’ve spotted are on asteroids. That means veins of pure metal. It won’t need refining or purifying. We’d have to work it into alloys, but we can do that.”

“How long? How long to reactivate the mines, get the metal out, and get it loaded on Titan? And I assume some of the other auxiliaries can use it, too?”

For the first time, Titan’s commanding officer hesitated. “If everything goes perfectly, I can have metals coming aboard in one week. And, yes, there are other ships in the auxiliary force that can use the metals as well. I know there’s a risk involved in hanging around the system, but with that metal we could fabricate a lot of what we need to keep going.”

Geary looked down, thinking. If everything doesn’t go perfectly, and it probably won’t, then it’ll be more than a week. Unfortunately, I have no real idea how long it’ll take the Syndics to realize we went to Kaliban, and how long after that to get a significant combat force here. So it’ll be a gamble. But I was planning to spend some time in this system anyway. And if I don’t take this gamble, who knows when we’ll have another opportunity to resupply the workshops on those auxiliaries?

Speaking of the auxiliaries, who’s in command of that division of ships? Who should’ve been the one calling me with this suggestion? Geary tapped some controls, feeling a surge of satisfaction when he managed to hit the right commands and the right data popped up in front of him. “One last question, I understand the commander of the auxiliaries division is Captain Gundel of the Jinn. Why isn’t he making this proposal on behalf of all the ships that can benefit?”

Geary was certain he caught a very quick flash of guilt in the eyes of Titan’s Captain. “Captain Gundel is very busy, sir. There are many issues demanding his immediate attention.”

“I see.” At least I think I do. “Very well. Start preparations for putting this plan of yours into motion. Let me know before you launch any teams to physically check the mining facilities.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Geary spent a few moments staring at the space where the image had been while he thought about his options. Then he shrugged and called Captain Gundel directly. The watch on the bridge of the Jinn answered quickly, but there was a long delay before Gundel finally came on, looking cross. He’d plainly served in the fleet a long time, his uniform reflecting an odd mix of obsessiveness in the display of his many decorations and carelessness in the wearing. “Yes? What is it?”

Geary couldn’t help noticing that despite Gundel’s bellicose nature, none of Gundel’s decorations were for heroism in combat. He kept his expression bland but raised one eyebrow. “Captain Gundel, this is Captain Geary, the fleet commander.”

“I know that. What do you want?”

Give me much more talk like that, and I’ll want you strung up by your heels. “I need a recommended course of action regarding reactivating the shut-down Syndic mining facilities in order to get raw materials for the auxiliaries.”

Gundel’s mouth worked irritably. “It’ll need study. Say, one month. I may be able to complete a preliminary survey of those facilities and have a draft recommendation to you by then.”

“I want it today, Captain Gundel.”

“Today? Impossible.”

Geary waited for a moment but Gundel obviously wasn’t going to suggest any alternatives. “What are Jinn’s highest priority needs at this moment?”

Gundel blinked, apparently caught off guard by the question. “I can have that to you within a few days. Perhaps.”

“You’re commanding officer of Jinn. You should know that off the top of your head.”

“I have many responsibilities! You and I obviously do not view the responsibilities of a division commander in the same light!”

You and I obviously don’t view who’s in command of this fleet in the same light. But Geary kept his face calm despite the heat rising inside him. “Thank you, Captain Gundel.”

He broke the connection, knowing the abrupt ending would annoy Gundel no end, then spent some more time staring into space. If Gundel acted this way toward his superiors, it wasn’t too hard to imagine how he treated subordinates. Which could be something you had to accept with a very competent officer, but not with someone who seemed lacking and refused to respond to clear direction. It seemed obvious that Gundel had to go, but relieving a senior officer like him would have to be done in a way that didn’t give people like Captain Numos any excuses to foment more anger against Geary. Up and out would be the most diplomatic and direct way, but how to do that in a fleet that didn’t have positions to promote the old fool into?

What would that old chief of mine have said? Besides “get drunk and see if it’s better in the morning” that is. Wait. Regulations. He said you could always find something in regulations to justify what you wanted to do. That advice always worked for me before.

Geary called up the fleet regulations and started doing keyword searches, skimming the texts for whatever would serve his purpose. To his own surprise, the answer popped up fairly quickly. But do I want to do that? He turned to the personnel files, calling up data on the commanders of the other ships in the auxiliaries division. Titan’s commander was, as Geary had thought, pretty junior for such a position even given the relative youth of fleet officers nowadays. It helped explain his eagerness, and his rashness in going straight to Geary with his proposal on the Syndic mining facilities. On the other hand, Gundel was very senior to be commanding the smaller Jinn. The difference between a competent, ambitious officer who’s eager to get things done and one who just wants to hide in a comfortable burrow.

But then there was Captain Tyrosian of the Witch. Experienced, but not exceptionally so. Highly rated as an engineer, good marks as an officer, senior enough to be qualified for higher command. She looked good on paper, for whatever that was worth.

Geary put in another call. Captain Tyrosian, on her bridge, was immediately available. She gave Geary a respectful look, though Geary thought he could see wariness in her eyes. “Yes, sir?”

Proper etiquette. That gives her points right off. “I’m just checking with auxiliaries commanders personally. How’s Witch doing?”

“As our reports say, sir. We sustained little damage during the battle in the Syndic home system, so most of our work right now is aimed at rebuilding the fleet’s supply of expendable weapons.”

“How are you doing on supplies of raw materials?”

Captain Tyrosian didn’t hesitate. “We need more.”

“How long would it take you to give me a report on options for acquiring more?”

She eyed him with even more wariness. “Sir, I could produce that whenever you ask for it, but such a request should come through my division commander.”

Very good, Captain Tyrosian. You know what’s going on, you’re willing to do what you’re told, and you’re willing to remind me that I need to abide by the chain of command. “Thank you, Captain Tyrosian.”

Geary checked the time. Give it a decent interval. Two hours.

He spent the interval working on his battle-training scenarios, as the fleet proceeded at a relaxed pace deeper into the Kaliban System, then Geary called Jinn once more. “Captain Gundel.”

Gundel seemed even more irritable than he had before. “I have a lot of things I should be doing.”

“Then you’ll be happy to hear what I have to say, Captain Gundel. I’ve realized I need someone working on identifying the long-range needs of this fleet. Someone with the experience to put together everything that’s needed into a comprehensive product, even if that takes a long time.” Geary smiled at Gundel, who seemed to be trying to look approving of Geary’s attitude in a patronizing sort of way. “But if that officer is constantly distracted by other responsibilities, they won’t be able to focus on what needs to be done. Therefore, I’m appointing you to my staff, Captain Gundel, as chief engineering advisor.” Geary smiled again.

Gundel seemed shocked now.

“Of course,” Geary continued in a slightly apologetic voice, “you realize that fleet regulations prohibit having anyone in charge of a ship or higher level command being also assigned to a staff position. Too much distraction, too many conflicting responsibilities. A professional like you certainly understands. So in order for me to have the exclusive benefit of your advice, you’ll have to relinquish command of Jinn. You’ll need a good working office to produce your report for me, and I know a smaller ship like Jinn doesn’t have much to spare, so you’ll need to transfer to Titan. I’ll make sure you get a good office on board her. And, also of course, since you’ll not be in command of Jinn anymore, that’ll make Captain Tyrosian of Witch the auxiliaries division commander.”

Gundel simply stared back, speechless.

“No questions, then? Excellent. Since we’re under time pressure here, please ensure you turn over command of Jinn to your executive officer prior to midnight. You’ll transfer to Titan tomorrow.”

At last, Gundel found his voice again. “You … you can’t—”

“Yes, I can.” Geary let his face grow stern and his voice get harsh. “My orders will be transmitted to Titan, Jinn, and Witch as soon as this conversation ends. I assume no officer of your experience would dream of balking at direct orders to proceed to a new assignment?” Geary paused, knowing his words would bring to Gundel’s mind the example of Commander Vebos, former commander of the Arrogant. Then he held his peace a moment longer to let Gundel think through the advantages for an officer like Gundel of no longer holding command responsibility and being able to devote himself to an endless research project without any taint of having been relieved for cause. Geary could see Gundel’s expression shift as the realization hit him that this was a great opportunity for an officer of his limited ambitions. “Will there be any problems?”

“No. Not at all.” Geary watched as Gundel’s eyes shifted again as he thought through the options once more, then as Gundel nodded to himself and regained his composure. “A wise use of personnel. I deeply regret leaving Jinn, it goes without saying.”

“Of course.”

“But my executive officer has been well trained by me. He should be able to benefit from having watched my period in command and make a capable commanding officer for Jinn.”

“That’s good to know.”

“I believe Captain Tyrosian has also benefited from observing me as divisional commander.”

“Then there should be no drawbacks,” Geary stated, eager to end Gundel’s apparently endless stream of self-aggrandizing statements.

“You realize of course that doing a proper job on the report you requested will be a lengthy process.”

“You’re to take however long it requires.” The longer the better, since that’ll keep you out of mine and everyone else’s hair. “Thank you, Captain Gundel.” Geary hastily broke the connection before Gundel could say anything else. With any luck I’ll never have to talk to him again. He can work on that report for however many years it takes until he retires and hands it to whatever poor sap has command of the fleet then.

Geary transmitted the messages he’d prepared, then called Witch and Titan to personally inform their Captains of the new state of affairs. Captain Tyrosian seemed almost as stunned as Captain Gundel had been. But Tyrosian acknowledged the order to quickly produce a plan for possibly exploiting the Syndic mining facilities, and perked up as she realized she was now division commander and Witch was the new division flagship. Geary almost sighed with relief after he ended his conversation with Tyrosian, knowing he could work with her.

Titan’s commanding officer, on the other hand, was clearly thrilled at the prospect of being out from under Gundel’s thumb, but also just as clearly in dread of having his former divisional commander on his ship for an indefinite period. “He’s no longer in your chain of command,” Geary stated firmly. “Keep him supplied with all the research material he asks for and give him a nice place to work. You’ll probably never see the man.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Thank me?” Geary prodded. “For what?”

The younger officer hesitated. “For not kicking me out the airlock for going over Captain Gundel’s head to you, sir.”

“If the Syndic mining facilities pan out, it’ll be a very good thing for this fleet. You had good reason. But don’t make a habit of it.”

“I won’t, sir.”

A few hours later he remembered to call the new commanding officer of Jinn. Geary had deliberately moved Gundel to Titan to keep him from harassing his replacement in command. The former executive officer seemed competent enough. In fact, Geary was pretty certain he’d been the one actually running Jinn while Gundel pretended to be constantly busy. Jinn’s new captain managed to hide any happiness he felt at no longer being Gundel’s subordinate, but then after working for Gundel, he probably had a lot of experience with hiding his feelings.

Geary glanced at the fleet’s position within Kaliban. They’d been gliding slowly into the system for some hours. Even if the Syndic force pursuing them through Corvus had somehow made the decision to jump to Kaliban instead of Yuon, it’d still be quite a few hours from arriving in Kaliban. But the more Geary thought about it, the less he was worried about immediate pursuit. If the Syndics had developed even the slightest suspicion that the Alliance fleet would go to Kaliban, they would’ve managed to get something to Kaliban to at least detect the Alliance fleet’s arrival there. The lack of even a scout ship capable of spotting the Alliance fleet and then fleeing to inform the Syndic command told Geary that the Syndics had thought themselves certain of Alliance intentions and put all of their effort into Yuon and Voss.

Unfortunately, reaching that conclusion meant he could no longer put off something that had needed doing since the fleet had arrived in the system, so Geary reluctantly sent orders to every ship for an immediate meeting with their commanding officers.

The conference room felt huge again, the table running off into the distance, with Geary wondering how long it would take his dislike of holding meetings here to mutate into hate. The virtual meeting process made it too easy to hold meetings, but Geary was slowly realizing it also made holding meetings too hard because it was so easy for everyone to attend and put their oar in if they desired. The software recognized anyone who wanted to speak, regardless of Geary’s feelings on the matter, and he couldn’t schedule meetings to deliberately make it difficult for his primary adversaries among the fleet captains to attend.

So here we all are again. One big happy family. Geary tried to avoid looking toward Captain Faresa, whom he was certain would be giving him one of her acidic looks. “I wanted to inform you all that my intentions are to remain in Kaliban for a while. We may be able to find useful matériel here, and there’s little to no chance of rapid Syndic pursuit.”

Captain Faresa interrupted, as Geary had expected her to. “If the Syndics show up here, will the Alliance fleet run away again?”

He gave Faresa a bland look, hoping it would discomfort her. “We didn’t run away at Corvus. We declined battle.”

“It’s the same thing! And to a numerically inferior force!”

Geary tried to judge the attitudes around the table, studying the expressions of captain after captain and getting the feeling that entirely too many of them were betraying sympathy for Faresa’s statements. The impression baffled him, but it seemed unmistakable. “If I may remind Captain Faresa, our sole purpose in Corvus was to transit the system in order to reach another jump point. I saw no reason to allow an inferior Syndic force to divert us from our intended plans.”

“They believe we ran from them!”

Geary shook his head and smiled very briefly. “The Syndics believe a lot of ridiculous things.” To his relief, the comment brought forth laughter from many of the captains. He’d thought over how to approach the issue of what had happened in Corvus if someone tried to make an issue of it, and dismissing the significance of the Syndic force had seemed to be the best angle.

Captain Faresa flushed, but before she could speak again, Captain Numos interceded. “The fact remains that the Syndics surely believe we were scared of fighting them.”

Geary raised one eyebrow. “I wasn’t scared of the Syndics.” He let the statement hang a moment, while Numos glared daggers at him. “I don’t believe in letting the enemy dictate our actions. If we’d turned to fight a battle simply because we were … concerned … about what the enemy would think, then we’d be letting them determine our course of action.”

He pointed toward Faresa and Numos in turn. “I will remind you both that the Syndics knew we’d gone to Corvus. That was the only system we could reach from the jump point we’d used in the Syndic home system.” He’d nearly used the word escaped but didn’t want to feed the accusations that the fleet had run away from battles, even though it was one-hundred-percent true. “That force coming after us was surely only a first wave. There would’ve been more right behind them. What would we have done with our damaged ships when that second wave appeared? We had no safe harbor in a Syndic system. Any damaged ships would’ve been doomed along with their crews. How would that serve our cause? How would that serve the people we command? Would you fight a battle to the death of this fleet in an insignificant star system simply out of pride?”

Captain Faresa glared silently back at Geary, but Numos shook his head. “Pride is why this fleet fights. It holds us together. Without pride, we are nothing.” His tone clearly conveyed that Geary should know this, and that Geary’s ignorance of it was inexplicable.

Geary leaned toward the image of Numos, knowing his anger was showing. “This fleet fights for victory, not pride. It is held together by honor and courage, the belief in what we fight for and the belief in each other. Pride is nothing by itself. Nothing but a weapon in our enemy’s hands, a weapon he will gladly use to help bring about our destruction.”

Silence fell. Numos seemed to have a glint of satisfaction lurking in the back of his eyes, as if he thought he’d scored points against Geary. Geary calmed himself, knowing he couldn’t afford to lose his temper. He looked along the long, long lines of captains whose images appeared to be seated at the table, trying to judge whether he’d harmed his standing, and not knowing what else he could’ve said. “If I may continue, the Syndics don’t know we’ve come to Kaliban. It’ll be another few days before they even realize we didn’t go to Yuon. Only then will they start looking elsewhere for us. We need to use that time to replenish whatever stocks we can. Our auxiliaries,” he nodded toward the place where Captain Tyrosian sat, “are going to see what raw materials they can gather, while they also devote time to manufacturing more of the things this fleet needs and getting it distributed to the ships that need it.”

“Captain Tyrosian’s in charge of the auxiliaries division? What happened to Captain Gundel?” an officer asked. He was looking at Tyrosian with a puzzled, not hostile, expression.

“Captain Gundel has been assigned to assist me with a long-range assessment of this fleet’s needs,” Geary answered. “He’s transferring to Titan.”

“I heard Gundel had been relieved of command,” another officer challenged.

Word travels fast. That hasn’t changed since my time. Geary looked back toward Tyrosian. “Fleet regulations prohibit having an officer serve as a ship’s commanding officer and in a staff assignment. Therefore, I was required to give command of Jinn to Captain Gundel’s executive officer. Captain Gundel,” Geary added, “agreed with all of these changes.”

Tyrosian, unused to being the center of attention at such meetings, simply nodded.

“Will Captain Gundel say that if he’s asked?” the officer continued.

“If you don’t regard my own statements as sufficiently reliable,” Geary stated dryly, “feel free to contact Captain Gundel. But I should advise you that he’s likely to tell you he’s too busy to deal with many interruptions.”

Smiles broke out around the table. As Geary had guessed, many commanding officers had been forced to deal with Captain Gundel while he was in charge of the auxiliaries, and they all knew the point of Geary’s half-disguised barb.

The challenger could see the smiles, too, and obviously realized he wouldn’t have many allies in protesting against Gundel’s transfer. “That’s fine. I just wanted to be sure, that’s all.”

“Good.” Geary looked slowly around the table. From the majority of the expressions, he’d maintained his hold on the fleet for now. But too many seem to be sympathetic to what Numos was saying. Why? They’re not stupid. But too many seem very unhappy that we didn’t fight at Corvus, common sense and simple smarts be damned. All right. If they want to fight, they’ll need to learn how. “We’re going to do something else while we’re here.”

Everyone watched him, some eagerly and some warily. “I’ve had the opportunity to watch the fleet in action.” Now was the time for the most diplomatic language Geary could muster. He wished he’d been able to trust Rione enough on internal fleet politics to have her help him with the wording. “The courage of the personnel and the capabilities of the ships of this fleet are truly impressive. You have much to be proud of.” He threw that last sentence in on the spur of the moment, trying to regain the high ground on that issue from Numos. “Our goal isn’t just victory in battle. It’s inflicting the heaviest possible losses on the enemy while suffering the fewest possible losses ourselves. There are things we can do to maximize our ability to win those kind of victories.”

The wariness was still there on the faces of his ship commanders. Geary called up another display, showing battle formations he’d once practiced, learning how to coordinate groups of ships to bring them together at decisive points. He’d thought a long time about this, about how to tell them they didn’t know how to fight a battle worth a damn. “Coordination, teamwork, and ship formations that allow us to take the best advantages of those qualities. It takes a lot of practice to carry these off right, but the payoff will be that the Syndics won’t be prepared to defend against them.”

“We can put ships in those formations,” someone objected, “but they’re worse than useless without someone who can coordinate action across light-minutes in the face of an enemy who’s acting and reacting. That’s the problem. It always gets too difficult with the time-late information. We’ve got the basic concepts laid down in tactical guides, but nobody actually knows how to work those formations anymore.”

Commander Cresida of the Furious spoke for the first time. “That’s been true, but I believe we now have someone who does know how to do that. Someone who learned it a long time ago.” She looked at Geary with a grim smile.

He could see the realization ripple around the virtual length of the table. Even Numos and Faresa seemed momentarily unable to come up with a rebuttal. Time to seize the moment. “We can do this. It’ll take work. We’re going to run simulations and exercises while we’re in this system. Practice fleet engagements. Yes, there’re some tricks I know that don’t seem to have survived to this point in the war. I can show them to you, and then we can all surprise the Syndics.”

Despite a scattering of skeptical expressions, most of the ship commanders seemed relieved and interested. “We’ll go through formations, practice battles, maneuvering.” At the mention of practice battles, even more of them perked up, as if Geary’s interest in preparing for combat relieved them of some concerns. “I’ll set up a schedule for those,” continued Geary. “It’ll be intense, because I don’t know how long we’ll have to practice. Any questions?”

“Where are we going from here?” Captain Tulev asked.

“That’s still under consideration. As you know, we’ve got several options.”

“Then you’re not worried about having to leave Kaliban in a hurry?” Tulev gave Geary a look that clearly communicated that he knew the answer Geary was going to give.

Geary smiled slowly back, grateful for Tulev setting up an opportunity for a strong answer. “We’ll leave Kaliban when we damn well feel like it, Captain.”

A sort of cheer erupted around the table as most of the ship commanders expressed their approval of the sentiment. Geary kept his smile, even as he felt relief at apparently having succeeded in telling these men and women that they needed a lot of training without harming their pride in themselves and their abilities. “That’s all. I’m working out the schedule for combat exercises and will transmit it to all ships when it’s ready.”

Captain Desjani stood, nodded to Geary, and walked quickly from the room, scanning her data pad for the latest actions required of the captain of the Dauntless. The images of the other ship commanders began vanishing rapidly as they raced off to let their own subordinates know the outcome of the meeting. Geary focused on one officer and held up a restraining hand. “Captain Duellos, a private word if you please.”

Duellos nodded in assent, his image “walking” toward Geary while those of the other remaining commanding officers vanished like a rapidly bursting cluster of bubbles, and the apparent size of the compartment shrank back to its real proportions. “Yes, Captain Geary?”

Geary rubbed his neck, trying to decide how to ask his question. “I’d appreciate your assessment of something. During that meeting there was talk of pride and of us refusing to engage at Corvus. How do you feel about that?”

Duellos canted his head to regard Geary. “You particularly value my opinion? I cannot claim to be representative of the opinions of all of the other captains in the fleet.”

“I know that. I’d like to know what you think, and what you think the others think.”

“Very well.” Duellos twisted up one corner of his mouth. “I understood what you said of pride. But you must understand that pride is one of the touchstones of this fleet.”

“I never said they shouldn’t be proud!” Geary threw his hands upward in annoyance.

This time both corners of Duellos’s mouth twitched upward momentarily as if he were trying to find humor in the situation. “No. But the importance of pride cannot be discounted. There have been times, Captain Geary, when our pride was all that kept us going.”

Geary shook his head, looking away. “I respect you far too much to think that empty pride is the only motivator you could call on. I think what you call pride is something much more than that. Belief in yourselves, perhaps, or perseverance in the face of adversity. Those are things to be proud of. That’s not the same as being proud.”

Duellos sighed. “I fear we’ve lost the ability to distinguish between those things. Lost it somewhere along the way from your time to now. War warps things, and human minds are far from the least of the things it twists.”

“Then do you also think we should’ve engaged the Syndics in Corvus?”

“No. Absolutely not. That would’ve been foolish for the reasons you pointed out. But…” Duellos hesitated. “May I speak frankly?”

“Of course. I’m asking you this because I trust you to speak the truth to me.”

Duellos made the very brief smile again. “I can’t claim to always know what truth is. I can only tell you what I believe it to be. You must understand that while most of the commanding officers in the fleet believe deeply in Black Jack Geary, many wonder if you are still that man. Patience,” he added as Geary made to speak. “I understand you never were that man. But they look for the qualities of Black Jack Geary in your actions.”

Geary thought about that for a moment. “And if they don’t see what they think of as Black Jack’s qualities in me?”

“They will question your ability to continue in command of this fleet,” Duellos stated flatly. “Since your assumption of command, there have been those who have spread rumors that you are a hollow man, damaged by the long period of survival sleep, an empty, wasted vestige of the great hero. If you come to be perceived to be lacking in the will to engage the enemy, it will give great strength to those rumors that your spirit has fled your body.”

“Hell.” Geary rubbed his face with both hands. As much as he hated being held up as a figure of legend, being labeled some sort of soulless zombie didn’t strike him as any improvement. And such a label could critically damage his ability to command the fleet. “Is anybody contesting these rumors?”

“Of course, sir. But words from such as me mean nothing to those who doubt you. Those who can be swayed are looking to your actions.”

Geary threw up his hands in exasperation again. “I can’t fault that on principle, can I? I won’t ask you who those rumor-mongers are because I’m sure you wouldn’t tell me. Captain Duellos, I took this command to get the fleet home. If I can do that without fighting a big engagement, it’ll mean I did that without losing any more ships.”

Duellos eyed him for a long moment. “Captain Geary, getting the fleet home is hardly an end in itself. I won’t pretend that it’s not a matter of great importance, but the fleet exists to fight. The Syndics must be defeated if this war is to end. Any damage we can do to them on our way home will benefit the Alliance. And sooner or later, this fleet must engage the Syndics again.”

Geary stood for a long moment, his head full of darkness, then nodded heavily. “I understand.”

“It’s not that we want to die far from home, you understand.” Duellos actually mustered a wry smile this time.

“Actually, I do.” Geary tapped his left chest, where few ribbons adorned his uniform in contrast to the row upon row of action awards that Duellos wore. The unmistakable pale blue of the Alliance Medal of Honor stood out among them, the award for his “last battle” that Geary didn’t believe he’d earned but which regulations required him to wear. “You’ve all grown up with this. Fighting and dying is something you accept as a fact of life. My mind-set’s still back a century ago, when peace was the norm and all-out war only a possibility. For me, combat was a theory game, where the referees would tote up points at the end to decide winners and losers, and then everybody would go have drinks together and lie about how brilliant their tactics had been. Now it’s all real. Everything at Grendel happened so fast that I didn’t have time to think about being in a war.” He grimaced. “Your fleet is far larger than the fleet that existed in my time. I could, in one battle, lose more sailors than were in the entire fleet I knew. So I’m still adjusting to this, to being thrown into a very long-lived war.”

A shadow fell across Duellos’s expression. “I envy you, sir,” he stated softly.

Geary nodded and gave Duellos a thin-lipped smile. “Yeah. I don’t really have grounds to complain about that, do I? Thank you for your candor, Captain Duellos. I appreciate your frank insights.”

Duellos made to step away in preparation for his image to vanish, then paused. “May I ask what you will do if a Syndic force appears in Kaliban?”

“Evaluate my options and choose the best one based on the exact circumstances.”

“Of course. I am sure you will make a ‘spirited’ decision, sir.” Duellos saluted, and his image disappeared.

Geary, alone again in a room where practically no one else had actually been present, spent a long time staring at the star display still floating above the conference table.