Dauntless

NINE

Even the Alliance engineering experts had to concede that the Syndic facilities in Kaliban had been efficiently mothballed. Equipment had been powered down, power supplies disconnected or removed, everything else packed up or put away, the atmosphere inside the facilities rendered as dry as possible, then the atmosphere had been vented from the facilities before they were sealed again. Everything was in deep freeze, but also protected from the ravages of temperature variations, corrosive gases, and other threats.

Images from the facilities seemed at first glance to show darkened rooms that someone could’ve just left after a long day of work. It was only when Geary took note of the unnatural sharpness with which everything could be seen and the way in which light beams didn’t diffuse as they would in atmosphere that he could tell from the images alone that the facilities were airless.

“Look at that,” Desjani commented. They were seated in the conference room, but this time the apparent size of the table stayed small. Instead, just off its end, a large window projected above the table displayed video from any of the scouts they cared to monitor as those scouts went through the Syndic facilities. The particular scout they were watching was going through what must have been the seat of Syndic political administration at Kaliban. Rows and rows of desks in identical cubicles, each left in identical shape, with every object on each desk positioned in the same spots in the same way. “They must’ve had people whose sole job was to inspect people’s desks to make sure everything was left exactly right when they left.”

“I’ve met people who’d enjoy doing that,” Geary remarked.

“Me, too.” Desjani suddenly grinned. “And here we come to the desks occupied by those who left last of all.”

Geary couldn’t help smiling, too. In the last row, several desks were in disarray, with long-ago dried-out drinking cups left standing amid scattered papers and documents, and some items that might have been leftover snack foods that had been desiccated and deep-frozen long ago. “It does look like the inspectors left before those desk jockeys did, doesn’t it? Ah, this might be interesting.” The Alliance scout was entering the main office. It still held an expensive-looking chair and a much more elaborate set of displays in addition to a workstation. “I wonder what that’d be like? Leaving a place forever. Some place you’ve worked at for who knows how long, and knowing odds were you’d never be able to come back. Knowing no one else would take your place because your place was gone.”

“Sort of like being part of the decommissioning crew on a ship, I’d think,” Desjani offered.

“Yeah. You ever done that?”

She hesitated for a moment. “We haven’t had the luxury of retiring many ships while I’ve been in the fleet, sir.”

Geary felt heat in his face and knew he was flushing, embarrassed at having asked such a boneheaded question. “Sorry. I should’ve known better than to ask that.” When the fleet was building ships as fast as possible to replace losses, it was a safe bet no ships were being gently led out to pasture at the end of their optimum service lives.

But Desjani already seemed to have moved on. She nodded at the picture again. “You can see where personal items had been placed for a long time. Whoever occupied that office stayed there for many years.”

Geary squinted, spotting the telltale darker squares and oblongs. “I guess so. I wonder where he or she went when they left Kaliban?”

“It hardly matters. Wherever it was, they went to help the Syndicate Worlds’ war effort.”

He didn’t want to answer that for a moment, but he knew the truth of it, too. “Yeah. What’s that?”

Desjani frowned, looking at the same object as Geary, a flat, white oblong resting on the surface of the desk. The scout they were monitoring walked carefully around the desk until he could focus on the object. “It’s a note,” he reported. “Faded but readable.” He bent closer to read it. “Standard universal script. ‘To Whom It May Concern. The left side … drawer … sticks. The … coffeemaker’s … timer … does not work. There’s … sweetener and coffee in the … right desk drawer … Take care of … everything.’ ” The Alliance scout straightened. “I can’t read the signature.”

Desjani’s frown changed into a grin that slowly faded. “Captain Geary, for the first time I can remember, I actually wanted to have met a Syndic. Whoever wrote that note seems like someone I could like.” She fell silent for a moment. “I’ve never thought of any Syndic as someone I could like.”

Geary nodded at her words. “Someday, our ancestors willing, this war will end, and we’ll get a chance to know the Syndics as people again. From what I know of this war, I don’t imagine you’ve much interest in that, but it’s necessary. We can’t let hatred rule our relations with the Syndics forever.”

She considered Geary’s words before replying. “Or we’d be no better than they are. Just as you said about our treatment of prisoners.”

“In a way, yeah.” He tapped the communications tab to speak to the scout. “Can you tell yet how long ago they shut this place down?”

The scout pointed to the document. “The date on this uses the Syndic calendar. Just a moment, sir, while I run a conversion.” After a moment, the scout spoke again. “Forty-two years ago, sir, if we assume this date is accurate. That coffee they left behind won’t taste too fresh, I’m afraid, but it’ll probably still be better than what they serve on our ships.”

“You’ve got a point there. Thanks.” Geary let go of the communications tab and looked over at Desjani. “Forty-two years ago. Whoever it was who wrote that note may well be dead by now.”

“It’s not as if there was a realistic chance of meeting the person,” Desjani noted in a dismissive tone, her attitude now implying she wouldn’t waste much time bemoaning the lost opportunity.

“Captain Geary?” Next to the scout’s window, a smaller one appeared, with images of Colonel Carabali and a Marine Major standing in it. Both Marines, in full armor, appeared to be in a Syndic facility somewhere. Geary checked the system display next to the picture, zooming it in on the location of Carabali. They were somewhere in the same facility as the scout Geary had just spoken to. “There’s something odd here.”

Geary felt a sudden heavy sensation in his guts. “Dangerous?”

“No, sir. We don’t think so. Just … odd.” Carabali gestured to her companion. “This is Major Rosado, my best expert on Syndic computer systems.” Rosado saluted smartly. “He tells me that not only have the data files for the Syndic systems been wiped clean and backup storage devices taken, but the operating systems have also been totally removed.”

Geary thought about that. “That’s odd?”

“Yes, sir,” Major Rosado stated. “There’s no sense in it. Why remove the operating systems? We’ve got copies of Syndic code that’ve been acquired by various means, so we can get the stuff working again. And not having operating systems loaded and configured would make it that much harder to get things going for any Syndics who came back.”

“The Syndics know we’ve got copies?”

“They know we’ve got copies of stuff a lot newer than what used to be on these antiques, sir.”

Those “antiques” are likely younger than I am. “You can’t think of any reason they would’ve wiped the operating systems?”

Major Rosado looked uncomfortable. “There’s only one reason I could think of, sir.”

“Which is?” Geary prodded.

“Sir,” Rosado stated reluctantly, “they would’ve removed the operating systems if they were worried about someone besides us accessing these systems after they were abandoned. Someone they didn’t think would have copies of their code.”

“Someone besides us?” Geary looked from Desjani to Carabali. “Who?”

“A … a third party.”

Desjani answered. “There isn’t any third party. There’s us and the planets allied with us, and there’s the Syndics. There isn’t anyone else.”

“There’s not supposed to be anyone else,” Carabali corrected. “But it appears the Syndics were worried about someone. Someone who didn’t have access to software that any human could be assumed to have.”

“You’re not suggesting intelligent nonhumans are you?” Desjani demanded. “We’ve never found any.”

Carabali shrugged. “No. We haven’t. But we don’t know what’s on the other side of Syndic space. They walled that off from us for so-called security reasons even before the war began.”

Geary pivoted to study the star display. Stars like Kaliban were far from Alliance space, but measured from the outer edge of Syndic territory, they weren’t all that far from the known limits of the Syndicate Worlds. “If this speculation was true, they’d have had to have known about these whatevers as of at least forty-two years ago when they shut down everything at Kaliban. Could they keep a secret like that for so long?”

The Marine commanding officer shrugged again. “It would depend on a lot of factors, sir. Neither I nor Major Rosado are saying such beings exist. We’re pointing out that this is the only explanation we’ve been able to come up with for what the Syndics did when they left Kaliban.”

“If there were such things out here,” Desjani countered, “wouldn’t we have run into them?”

“Maybe we will,” Geary replied. “Are there any fleet procedures for dealing with nonhuman contact?”

Desjani looked baffled. “I don’t know. There’s never been any call for them, so I don’t know of anyone who’s looked into it. Maybe something exists, but it’d be really ancient, from before the war.” Geary assumed he managed to conceal his reaction to that last statement since Desjani went on speaking, oblivious. “In any case, how could these nonhuman intelligences reach Kaliban if the Syndics didn’t want them to? Kaliban isn’t next door to the Syndic frontier.”

Colonel Carabali looked apologetic but spoke again. “If there were nonhuman intelligences out here, they might have a different means of faster-than-light travel. Right now, humans have two such means. There could be other means, and one of those might make Kaliban accessible from the Syndic frontier. But I’m not saying that’s the reason for the Syndics’ actions. I’m not saying nonhuman intelligences exist or have been encountered by the Syndics. I’m just saying that’s the only explanation we’ve been able to come up with that makes any sense at all for what the Syndics did here.”

Geary nodded. “Understood, Colonel. I appreciate your sharing that idea, even though as you say there’s no certainty at all to it. But you’re telling me that we can get any of the Syndic systems running again despite what they did?”

Major Rosado smiled confidently. “Yes, sir. If you want it up, we can get it working.”

“You’re talking to the scout teams from the fleet auxiliaries?”

“Yes, sir. There’s a team from Jinn with us here making an assessment on whether this site holds anything we can use.”

“Good. Thanks for your information.” The second window vanished, leaving only the scene from the Alliance scout as he painstakingly went over the office.

Desjani shook her head. “I never imagined I’d hear Marines worrying about two-headed aliens from the dark beyond.”

Geary smiled but then sobered. “Yet they couldn’t find any other reason for what the Syndics did. Can you think of a reason?”

“Perversity? Some stupid bureaucrat? People don’t always do things for reasons that make any sense.”

“True. Being in the fleet, we know all about that, right?”

Desjani grinned and nodded. “I really wouldn’t waste time worrying about it, sir.”

“No, I guess not, though frankly that’s a lot of work to go to without any good reason.” Geary checked the time. “We’ve got something else to worry about right now.”

For at least the tenth time in the last half hour, Geary fought to suppress an angry comment. The ships that were supposed to have moved into a block-shaped formation to one side of the main body had gotten into some sort of dispute based on the seniority of ship commanders, so that instead of taking assigned stations, some ships were trying to wedge their way into locations where other ships were already in place. Geary counted to five slowly, then keyed his communications. “All units in formation bravo, be advised that everyone will get equal opportunity to engage the enemy. Proceed to your assigned stations.”

He pondered taking something for the headache growing between his eyes while he watched the errant ships somewhat sheepishly alter their courses. Except for Audacious, which kept edging in toward Resolution in an apparent attempt to bull the other ship aside so that Audacious could lay claim to what looked like a leading position. “Audacious, did you copy my last?” He waited a minute to see if Audacious would respond, but the warship kept sidling in toward Resolution. Fine. Let’s see if a little humor will defuse this without my having to relieve another commanding officer. “Audacious, be advised that if you are attempting to mate with Resolution, you might try buying her a few drinks first.”

Off to one side, Geary heard Captain Desjani almost choke on her coffee. He heard no reply from Audacious, but the warship finally angled away and back toward its assigned station. A moment later, Resolution called in. “Alliance battle cruiser Resolution wishes to report that her virtue remains intact.”

This time Desjani laughed, as did Geary. Good. That’s the sort of thing that indicates morale is okay. For the moment, at least. He watched the other ships in formation bravo belatedly sliding into position, shaking his head. Thank goodness I can do this by simulation. I wish I could do it for real, too, but I can’t afford to burn the amount of fuel reserves that’d require.

Geary waited until the laggard ships had reached their stations, then tapped his communications controls again. “All units, I’m going to put your simulated ship movements on automatic for a little while. I want to show you what happens when we employ these two formations in a coordinated fashion.” He activated the sequence he’d programmed during the transit through jump space.

In the simulated version of the Kaliban System, a large Syndic force suddenly appeared near the Alliance formations. Geary let the simulation run, showing the two Alliance formations rotating to angles that maximized their firepower against opposite edges of the onrushing enemy.

He’d deliberately kept the scenario short, so twenty minutes later the remnants of the simulated Syndics were fleeing for their lives. Geary let another couple of minutes pass after the simulation paused, then spoke again. “There’s a couple of points I want to make. First of all, you’ll note that when the separate formations are properly employed, it maximizes our capability to employ the most ships and the most firepower against the enemy. You’ll notice that every ship in formation bravo hit the enemy hard because of the way that formation swept across the enemy flank. Secondly, this scenario I just ran worked because every ship did what it was supposed to do.”

He studied the vision of impossibly easy victory in the simulation. It’d been too painless, too uncomplicated, but he wanted the messages taught by it to be clear. “If we work as a disciplined fighting force, we can kick the Syndics so hard, they won’t know what hit them. The simulations and formations we’re going to practice over the next few weeks are going to get progressively more complex, but I wanted everyone to know the reason we’re doing this. I promise you this fleet can beat any comparable force nine times out of ten if we have the same valor but apply it in a disciplined manner.”

Desjani gave him a thumbs up from the other side of the simulation room. Geary nodded back at her, wishing that all of his ship captains had her unquestioning loyalty. “That’s all. The next simulation will be run in two hours. I’ll see you then.” He stretched and stood up. “I think I can safely predict that within the next two days everyone will be sick to death of running these practice drills.”

“Do you really think we can pull off that kind of maneuvering of independent formations in a time-late data situation involving an enemy who’s reacting to our actions?” Desjani asked.

Geary nodded. “Yeah. So you spotted how the enemy force behaved in that simulation, huh?”

“Yes, sir. As much as I hate the Syndics, I don’t think they’re quite as stupid as that attacking force acted.”

This time Geary grinned. “Maybe if we’re lucky. But, no, I’m not planning on them actually acting that stupid. But, yes, I think I can call the orders. I learned the skill under some very good practitioners of the art.” Then he remembered how long those men and women had been dead, and his smile faded.

By late the next day, Geary realized his prediction had been off by one day. Most of the ship commanders, burdened by their normal command responsibilities, had already gotten tired of simulating maneuvering and battles for a good portion of each day. It didn’t help that Geary had set the simulations to get progressively more difficult. “Listen up,” Geary admonished them after the last drill of the day. “We don’t know how long we have before the Syndics show up here. We need to be ready. That means packing a lot of work into the shortest time possible. See you tomorrow.”

He slumped back in his seat, feeling wearied from the constant effort involved in not only riding herd on all the ships under his command but also in massaging the egos of their commanders. “We have an update from Witch,” Desjani advised. “The mining facility on Ishiki’s Rock should be in working order tomorrow. They expect to be pulling out ore and sending it to the auxiliaries by late tomorrow afternoon.”

“Great.” Geary peered at the message. “Ishiki’s Rock? Oh, that one. The asteroid mine. That isn’t what the Syndics called it, is it?”

“No. There didn’t seem any reason to go to the trouble of finding out what name the Syndics used. Ishiki is the senior enlisted who did the first reconnaissance and evaluation of the mining facility there.”

“Then it’s as good a name as any,” Geary reflected. He called Witch. “Captain Tyrosian? If time permits, I’d like one of your machine shops to churn out a small plaque identifying the asteroid mining facility as Ishiki’s Rock. We’ll tack it up somewhere down there.”

Tyrosian looked briefly startled, then smiled. “Chief Ishiki will surely appreciate that, sir. Do you want any ceremony when we put the plaque up?”

“If you want to improvise something, feel free. Everybody in this fleet is working their butts off, and we can use an excuse for a little fun.”

“Yes, sir. There’s some good metal in that rock. How long will we have to exploit it?”

Geary thought about the question. “That’s still undetermined at this time. Assume you have to work fast, but if possible, I want to top off the bunkers in the auxiliaries with raw materials before we leave.”

Tyrosian raised her eyebrows. “That’s a lot of raw material, Captain Geary. At the rate we can mine and transport it here, it’d take weeks.”

“I can’t promise weeks, but we’ll take every day we can.”

“I feel obligated to remind you as well that all the extra mass will adversely affect the maneuvering capabilities of my ships. Titan, in particular, since she’s the largest. But Witch, Jinn, and Goblin will all get a lot more sluggish as well.”

Geary felt an increasingly familiar pain behind his eyes. “How bad will Titan’s ability to accelerate be if her raw material bunkers are topped off?”

Tyrosian looked to one side, apparently working some controls. “Here’s Titan’s performance at full load, Captain Geary.”

Geary exhaled as he read the data Captain Tyrosian displayed. “She’ll be a real flying pig, won’t she?”

“We usually use the term flying elephant. A flying pig would probably be much more maneuverable than Titan with a full load.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the heads-up.”

Tyrosian looked questioning. “Do you still want Titan’s bunkers topped off, sir?”

Geary rubbed the place between his eyes to try to push back the throbbing there. “Yes. If we can’t manufacture what we need for the long haul, it won’t matter how fast we can move for the short haul. If I have to choose, I want to be prepared for the long run.”

“Yes, sir. You need it, we build it.”

The old motto of the fleet engineers, unchanged since Geary’s time, brought a smile to his face. “Thank you, Captain Tyrosian. I know I can always count on you and your ships.” The statement made Tyrosian smile as well.

Geary made his way back to his stateroom, cheered by his dealings with Captain Tyrosian but still looking forward to relaxing and pretending to be away from the demands of being in charge of the fleet. But he found someone waiting outside of the hatch leading to his stateroom. “Madam Co-President.” Geary hoped his weariness and lack of desire for conversation didn’t come through too clearly. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

She inclined her head to acknowledge the greeting, then gestured toward the hatch. “I wish to speak to you privately, Captain Geary.”

“I don’t want to seem unwelcoming, but is there another time we can do that? I’ve been pretty heavily occupied lately.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Rione gave him an arch look. “You’ve been so heavily occupied, that I’ve been frustrated in my other attempts to meet with you. I would very much like to speak with you now.”

Geary managed not to sigh too heavily. “Okay. Please come in.” He let her enter first, then waved her to one seat while he unceremoniously flopped into another.

That earned him another look from Rione. “You don’t seem to be the iron-willed hero of legend today, Captain Geary.”

“The iron-willed hero of legend is damned tired today, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

Rione seemed a little surprised by Geary’s directness, but she finally sat down in the offered seat. “My question is a simple one. What are you planning, Captain Geary?”

Geary shrugged. “As I’ve stated every time I’ve been asked that question, I’m planning on getting this fleet home.”

“Then why are we lingering at Kaliban?”

The woman does have a gift for asking awkward questions. Geary considered her for a moment before answering. “We need some time. We’re not sitting idle. As I’m sure you’re aware, we’re getting raw materials to the ships that can use them, Titan and her sisters are churning out new fuel cells as well as replacements for the equipment we’ve had damaged or destroyed and the weapons we’ve expended, we’re getting some major external repairs done to some of our ships that couldn’t be accomplished in jump space, we’re scavenging through the abandoned installations here for anything we can use, and most important of all, we’re training.”

“Training.” Rione’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“As I’m also sure you’re aware, Madam Co-President, we’re training for combat. The next time we face a large Syndic force, I want this fleet to operate like a military organization instead of an untrained mob of well-intentioned but overaggressive warriors.” Damn. He had to be careful not to be too blunt with Rione. It wouldn’t do to have a phrase like that repeated too widely.

“Captain Geary, I told you when first we met that this fleet is brittle. You agreed with me. How can you now speak of facing a large enemy force?” Rione’s voice had gotten flatter and harder as she spoke.

Geary, wishing he could strengthen shields around himself against the force of Rione’s words, simply nodded. “I agreed with you then. But brittle metal can be reforged, Madam Co-President. It can be made strong again.”

“To what purpose?”

Okay. She doesn’t trust me at all when it comes to things like this, I guess. Fine. Trust me or not, all she’ll get from me is the truth. “To get home. I mean that. Look.” Geary reached forward far enough to push in a command he’d learned by heart, then waved at the display of stars that appeared over the table between them. “We’re a long way from home by system jumps. I can keep trying to outguess the Syndics and try to plan far enough ahead to keep them from trapping us, but I can’t count on them never second-guessing me, never getting lucky. That means I can’t count on never running into some Syndic force that could hurt us badly. What’s going to happen then? If this fleet is still the force I led out of the Syndic home system, it’ll run the risk of being broken and destroyed. But, Madam Co-President, if I can teach these sailors to fight smart as well as brave, then we’ll be able to fight our way through that Syndic force.”

She watched him for a long time without speaking, her thoughts impossible for Geary to read. Finally, she spoke in a slightly less harsh voice. “You believe you can do this?”

“I hope I can.” Geary hunched forward, trying to project his feelings. “These are good sailors. Good officers. Good captains. For the most part, good captains. I’m sure you know there are some exceptions, but there always have been and always will be. All they need is someone they believe in, who they’ll listen to, to show them how to win.”

“Because they trust you.”

“Yes, dammit! What the hell’s the matter with that? I’ve yet to take one single action to betray that trust, and I never will.”

“Is that an oath, Captain Geary?” Rione’s voice had become very soft but also very clear. “Do you swear that on the honor of your ancestors?”

Geary wondered if Rione knew about his occasional visits to the ancestral spaces, and guessed she’d probably picked up as much information about them as anyone could. “Of course I do.”

“And the Alliance itself? The elected leadership of the peoples of the Alliance?”

Geary stared at her. “What about them?”

Rione glared back, exasperation showing in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. “If I only knew whether you were truly naïve or simply playacting! Captain Geary, you are a figure of legend. What sort of power do you think you will be able to wield if you return to the Alliance with this fleet at your back? Black Jack Geary, the paragon of Alliance officers, the hero of the past, the man every Alliance youth is taught to revere, back from the dead with a mighty fleet he has literally saved from total loss! A fleet you say will be trained to be far better than other Alliance forces. What will become of the Alliance then, Captain Geary? You will hold the Alliance within the palm of your hand, to dispose of as you wish. You know this is true! What will you do?”

“I…” Geary looked away, discomforted by her words and the intensity of the feelings behind them. “I’ll … I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought that far … but, no. No! I don’t want that kind of power. I don’t want to tell the elected leaders of the Alliance what to do. I want…” To get home? Home, for him, was dead and gone. What would be left for him when this mission was done? What life could he hope for? “I want…”

“What, Captain Geary? What do you want, more than anything?”

Geary, worn out mentally and physically by the exertions of the last few days, felt a wave of cold washing over him. “More than once, Madam Co-President, I have wanted more than anything to have died on my ship a century ago.” He regretted the words as soon as he’d spoken them, words and thoughts he hadn’t revealed to anyone else, but which had broken through internal barriers weakened by tiredness and stress.

Rione seemed taken aback for a moment. She watched him silently for a while, then nodded. “Could you walk away from it, Captain Geary? If we get home, can you walk away from the power to decide the fate of the Alliance?”

He took a long, deep breath. “In all honesty, I think I have that power already. If I can get this fleet back, with the device you know is on Dauntless, the Alliance has a real good chance of forcing the Syndics to negotiate in earnest to end this war. But if I don’t, if we’re lost out here, the Syndics will have a very large military advantage, and I can’t imagine they won’t press that advantage for all it’s worth. So, one way or the other, what I manage to do is going to determine a lot about what happens to the Alliance.” Geary looked straight into Rione’s eyes. “I swear I’d walk away from it this instant if I could. But I can’t. You know that, don’t you? There’s no one else here who has a chance of getting this fleet home. I’ve tried to tell myself I’m not indispensable, that there are other officers here who could get this fleet back. But I know it’s not true.”

Rione’s eyes and expression were unyielding. “Democracies and republics cannot live with indispensable men or women, Captain Geary.”

“It’s only until I get this fleet back! Once we get back to the Alliance, Madam Co-President, I fully intend turning over command to the first admiral I meet and then finding a nice quiet planet to hide on for the rest of my life.” Geary stood up and paced despite his weariness. “That’s all anyone can ask of me. That’s all the honor of my ancestors can possibly demand. I’ll resign this command and my commission and go to … to…”

“Where, Captain Geary?” Rione sounded weary now, too, though Geary couldn’t imagine why. “What planet do you think would grant you refuge against the ancient glory of Black Jack Geary and the modern adulation for the man who saved the Alliance fleet and perhaps the Alliance itself?”

“I…” Geary cast about for a name, knowing his own home world would never be such a refuge, knowing it might well have changed beyond recognition in a century’s time and actually fearing to see the sort of monuments to Black Jack Geary that surely existed there, and settled on the one planet he’d heard the most of in the last several weeks. “Kosatka.”

“Kosatka?” This time Rione laughed, though with more disbelief than humor. “I told you before, Captain Geary. Your fate does not lie on Kosatka. Kosatka is a good world, but it is not a mighty world. Kosatka could not hold you now.”

“I’m not—”

“No one planet could hold you now, regardless of where you believe your duty must take you.” Rione stood as well, her eyes still fixed on Geary. “But if it proves necessary to hold you, if someone must act to contain your power, then I will do my best.”

He stared back at her, not believing what he’d heard. “Are you threatening me?”

“No. I’m merely informing you that should you attempt to reach out and take what could be yours, I will be there to stay your hand.” She turned to go, then faced him again. “And lest you doubt, Captain Geary, I am not indispensable. Even if I am lost, there will be others.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“There you are surely wrong. Don’t mistake me. I’m not prejudging you, and what you have done are arguably things that needed to be done to save this fleet. If you hold to your vow to reject the power that will be yours, you’ll have no truer ally than me. But you must not pretend there will be no temptation, Captain Geary. You must not pretend that there won’t be those urging you to take certain actions allegedly for the sake of the Alliance, actions that may then appear justifiable to you but that will destroy everything you claim to honor.”

He glared at her. “I’m not the kind of person who’d do that sort of thing.”

“Is Black Jack Geary that kind of person?”

“What?” He shook his head several times as if to clear it, puzzled that she’d actually posed the question. “I have no idea. I don’t know who that imaginary hero is. I don’t know what he’s like. All I know is he’s not me.”

Rione shook her own head, but slowly in clear negation of Geary’s last statement. “I regret to say that you are wrong. No matter who you think you are, you must realize that, in every way that matters in this universe, you are Black Jack Geary.”

“Then perhaps you’d care to explain to me why I have to work so hard to keep most of these commanding officers happy if they believe in Black Jack Geary so damn much!”

Rione’s mouth twisted. “You said it yourself. They believe in Black Jack Geary, Captain. In their minds, that person must be exceptional in every way. If they come to believe that you are not Black Jack Geary as they imagine that person must be, they would no longer believe in you.”

“So you’re saying I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t? That in order to save this fleet, I have to be exceptional in every way? I have to effectively become the person they think Black Jack Geary is or this fleet will be lost? But just how am I supposed to be exceptional in every way?”

“I’m afraid I cannot help you there, Captain Geary.” Rione inclined her head again, then departed.

Geary watched her leave, then collapsed again onto the nearest seat, two thoughts warring in his mind. What if she’s right? And what the hell did I ever do to deserve this?

“All units in formation sigma roll port twenty degrees at time three four.” Geary waited, then buried his head in his hands as half of the ships rolled in place while the other half moved as if the entire formation were pivoting twenty degrees to port. Listen to the message! Please listen to the message! It’s not like you don’t have time to think about it before the execution time!

Outwardly, Geary spoke as calmly as he could. “All units, take care to execute the order as given.” He checked the time, rubbed his eyes, then broadcast again. “All units. That’s enough for today. Thanks for all your hard work.” I just hope they’re learning something. Not just about keeping formation, either. If they’re paying attention to how I’m calling the maneuvers to account for time-late data, they should be picking up some of that as well.

Captain Desjani looked tired, too, but smiled encouragingly. “I’ve never seen our units actually maneuver like this under battle conditions.”

“You still haven’t,” Geary noted, trying not to sound as sour as he felt. “It’s all simulated and not under the stress of actual combat.”

“I still think we’ve seen a lot of improvement.”

Geary thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. You’re right. We have. Given the amount of time we’ve been working on this, everyone has progressed quite quickly.” He checked the final disposition of the ships on the simulator, now frozen in place. “There’s been a lot of progress for just less than two weeks of running drills. But then there’s a lot of good ship handlers in this fleet.” He nodded again, this time toward Desjani. “Present company included.”

“Thank you, sir.” Desjani looked both pleased and embarrassed by the praise.

“I mean it. You can really handle this ship. You can train some people in ship handling for a star’s lifespan, and they’ll still jerk a ship around like it was a sack of lead. But you’ve got skill. You feel the ship and work with her motion.” Geary levered himself out of his seat. “I’m going to take a break before I review the next simulation scenario. How about you?”

Desjani shook her head. “There’re some things I need to take care of as commanding officer of Dauntless. No rest for the wicked, as they say.”

“I don’t know about wicked, Tanya, but I do know ship captains never get much rest. Thanks for all the help you’ve given me lately.”

“It’s my pleasure, sir.” She sketched an informal salute and left.

Geary sat back down, fought a brief internal battle between a desire for downtime and the need to catch up on his own responsibilities, then called up the latest fleet status reports. There were three former Syndic asteroid mines being worked now, and a gratifying amount of pure metal had been transferred to the auxiliaries, which had kept their own workshops going to provide the fleet with desperately needed spares and replacements for expendable weapons. In addition, some food stocks had been found, still preserved by the cold in the abandoned towns where they’d been left, doubtless because shipping the food out had made no economic sense when the Syndics had left Kaliban. I have a feeling we’re all going to get very tired of Syndic food before we get home. Especially since they undoubtedly ate the stuff that tasted best first and left the stuff no one wanted. A notation on one report advised that scouts had located a storehouse of electronic components that had yielded some useful matériel that could be reworked to meet some Alliance requirements. All in all, the fleet had spent its time in Kaliban well.

An internal communication circuit chimed urgently. “Captain Geary, this is Captain Desjani.”

“Roger. What’s up?”

“They’re here.”

Geary headed for Dauntless’s bridge as fast as he could get there. It was somewhat irrational to rush since the nearest jump exit was two light-hours away, but he still felt the need.

He was still taking his seat when Desjani started briefing him. “Initial sightings indicate the Syndic force is comparable to the one that followed us through Corvus.”

Geary nodded, not commenting on the fact that he’d noticed every Alliance sailor on the Dauntless had stopped talking about the Syndic force “chasing” the Alliance fleet through Corvus. Now they always said the Syndics had simply followed. Within another few weeks, the Alliance sailors would probably be saying the Alliance fleet had somehow been chasing the Syndic force out of Corvus. As long as it salved their pride, Geary wouldn’t correct anyone. “It could actually be the same force. If it is them, they’ve gotten to Kaliban the hard way around, and they’re likely to be a little perturbed with us.”

Desjani grinned. “Per your instructions, we’ve already ordered all shuttles and personnel back to their ships.”

“Good. Have they initiated destructive shutdowns of all the equipment we reactivated?”

“Yes, sir.” Desjani’s approval of the scorched-earth tactic was clear. “That equipment won’t be working for anyone again.”

“That’s the idea.” It was a pity in a way, but he couldn’t leave industrial assets behind for the Syndics to possibly use again for their own purposes. Geary studied the situation for a long moment. “Coming out of that exit, they must’ve come from Saxon or Pullien, and they could’ve reached either of those stars from Yuon, right?”

Desjani checked her display. “Pullien would take an extra jump, but yes. Either way, they’ve come in using the jump exit closest to us.”

Just as I could’ve predicted from my experience with the perversity of the universe. The Syndics came out of the closest jump exit to the Alliance fleet, only two light-hours away. We just saw them, which meant the Syndics actually arrived at Kaliban two hours ago. The Alliance ships hadn’t been able to see the suddenly arriving Syndic ships until light made its journey, but the Syndics would’ve instantly been able to see the Alliance fleet and its position as of two hours before. The amount of blue shift on the light from the Syndic ships indicates they were doing point-one light coming out of jump. If they’ve maintained that speed, that’d put them point two light-hours closer to us by the time we saw them first arrive. It still means they’re eighteen hours away from reaching us at that speed, though.

There’s no doubt we could accelerate away and avoid action on our way out of the system. It’d be easy.

And it’d give a lot of strength to those rumors that I’m not fit to command this fleet. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks trying to decide what to do when the Syndics arrived. I couldn’t really make up my mind until I saw how big the Syndic force turned out to be. Now I know. It’s significantly smaller than us, but still powerful. It could do a lot of damage.

Geary glanced over at Captain Desjani, seeing how her muscles were tensed in anticipation of combat even though it was at least several hours away even if Geary accelerated the Alliance fleet to meet the Syndics. He knew she and most of his other ship captains would be disappointed to leave Kaliban without engaging the Syndics. More than disappointed. He took another look at the latest estimate of the enemy force’s size. I’m not sure the fleet’s ready to take on a force like that. We outnumber them by quite a bit, but if we screw things up anything like the engagements at Corvus, we could take terrible losses. Can I trust my ships to keep formation and follow orders?

I know what prudence dictates, but these people I’m commanding need to believe I’m the one who can lead them to victory. How long will they follow me if they think I’m afraid of combat? Should I give in to that concern despite my doubts? Or are my doubts greater than they really should be? Am I afraid to risk these ships because of the mistakes they might make, or because of the mistakes I might make?

Run or fight. Which would be right? Which would be best?

Ancestors, send me a sign.

“Captain Desjani,” the Dauntless’s communications watch called out. “Witch reports there’s a dead bird on Ishiki’s Rock.”

Geary took a moment to process the modern slang through his brain. “Bird” was what the sailors called shuttles, and “dead” meant…

“There’s a shuttle that can’t rise?”

“Yes, sir. On Ishiki’s Rock. One of the big cargo haulers.”

“Tell them to abandon the cargo. Just get the personnel out.”

“They tried, sir. It’s not a mass issue. Propulsion and control systems went dark when they tried to lift. They’re troubleshooting now.”

“How many of our people are on Ishiki’s Rock?”

“Thirty-one, sir, counting the shuttle crew.”

Geary looked at Desjani. “You know these shuttles better than I do. What’re the odds they’ll get it fixed soon?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t place bets on it,” Desjani advised. “Two major systems dead means multiple junction failures.” She gestured toward the engineering watch-stander. “Your assessment, please?”

The watch-stander grimaced. “That bird won’t be going anywhere until a full maintenance unit can get a look at it. Exact time to get it flying again will depend on how many subsystems did a meltdown, but I’d assume four hours minimum once the maintenance team gets there, assuming they’ve got all the parts they’ll need.”

“I had a feeling it’d be that bad.” Geary looked back at the display, running through possible options in his head. Ishiki’s Rock was thirty light-minutes closer to the Syndics than the Alliance fleet’s main body. Titan had finished topping off its raw materials storage a day and a half ago and moved back with the fleet, but Witch was still out there near Ishiki’s Rock.

Five hours transit time at .1 light, and while Witch massed less than Titan, it had less propulsion capability so it couldn’t accelerate much better than Titan. He could order Witch to send another shuttle out to pick up the people on Ishiki’s Rock and abandon the dead bird in place. Or he could send in a maintenance team to fix the bird. Witch was close enough to Ishiki’s Rock that they could probably revive the dead bird and still get it back to Witch in time for the fleet to take off ahead of the Syndics. Though that could well be a close thing. The safest thing to do would be to abandon the bird.

And wouldn’t that look bad in the eyes of people who already didn’t like to see the Alliance fleet “running away” from Syndics.

But staying long enough to try to salvage or fix the bird could run a real risk of having Syndic HuKs catching up with Witch if anything went wrong. He could bring up some ships to defend Witch, but how many would he need? If the Syndics were pushing their propulsion to maximum, they could shave significant time off their transit by accelerating half the way to Witch and then decelerating back to .1 light in time to engage her.

And what would happen to anyone left on Ishiki’s Rock if the Syndics came charging in faster than anticipated? The closer the Syndics got, the less time Geary would have to react.

Thirty-one people. One cargo shuttle. I can get the people out. No problem. Unless something else messes up. Which it could, and then we could face trouble. And if I try to save face by saving the shuttle, too, I’ll be risking more people. If we have to pull out fast…

Pull out fast, Geary? Try running away. Because no matter what label you put on it, that’s what it means. You know it, and so will everyone else. And you don’t really like it any more than they do.

The fleet’s trusted me to lead them this far. I have to trust them. I have to trust them to win if I can lead them competently.

And I can’t lead them unless they continue to believe in me.

And they won’t continue to believe in me unless I show them they can win by listening to me.

And I can’t win unless I take risks.

Captain Desjani was looking at him, having surely reached the same conclusions he had about the options available and wondering how Geary would handle it.

Geary took a deep breath, then activated the fleet command communications circuit. “Alliance fleet, this is Captain Geary. All units, assume Combat Formation Alpha. I say again, assume Combat Formation Alpha. Execute order immediately upon receipt. Take stations relative to fleet flagship Dauntless, formation axis aligned to Dauntless’s long axis. All ships prepare for action. Estimated time to battle is”—he did a quick estimate of how quickly the two forces would come together if the Alliance fleet headed directly for an intercept—“eight hours.” He glanced over at Desjani. “Captain Desjani, please have your communications watch inform the personnel on Ishiki’s Rock that the fleet is coming to get them. Then please bring Dauntless around so her bows point toward an intercept with the projected course of the Syndic formation entering the system.”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Desjani looked exultant, and so did everyone else Geary could see on the bridge.

“Captain Geary!” He hadn’t seen that Co-President Rione had also arrived on the bridge. Now he turned to look as she spoke, her face appalled. “Are you intending to fight a full-scale battle for control of this system?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m planning. I have thirty-one personnel and a fleet cargo shuttle marooned on one of the asteroids in the system.”

“And with the Syndic ships well over half a day away, you believe a full-scale battle is your only option?”

Geary gave her a brief, humorless smile. “I believe it’s the best option for a variety of reasons.”

“You can’t risk the loss of hundreds or thousands of sailors and who knows how many ships for thirty-one people who could be easily rescued and a cargo shuttle that could be easily abandoned on that asteroid!”

“None of the available options are foolproof, Madam Co-President. We don’t know what the Syndics are doing this very minute. Even a simple rescue, if delayed by other unforeseen events, could place Witch or some other ship in peril. Yes, I’m risking the entire fleet to cover those personnel and that shuttle and the ships working to take them off that asteroid. It’s a matter of responsibility and keeping faith. The Alliance fleet does not leave anyone behind.”

Sudden cheers startled Geary and Rione. Looking around, he saw Dauntless’s bridge team holding fists upward as they roared approval.

He turned toward Captain Desjani, catching her just as she finished muttering something into her communications system. “Pardon me, Captain Geary. I was just transmitting the record of your statement to the fleet.” Even after spending almost a couple of months with her, Geary was still shocked to see the admiration shining in her eyes.

But he knew she’d done something right. As much as he hated to admit it, those words he’d blurted out would steel the fleet through this battle. And no doubt be added to the inspirational sayings of Black Jack Geary. Which, he prayed to every ancestor he had, he’d never have to actually hear repeated by anyone else.

Rione looked like she was praying, too, though Geary suspected they were prayers for what she thought of as sanity to prevail. “Captain Geary, what can I say to convince you that this fleet’s survival is the most important factor to consider?”

“Madam Co-President, I understand your concerns. I must ask you to trust my judgment that this fleet’s survival will depend ultimately on many factors.”

“Captain.” Rione stepped close and spoke very quietly. “You know how critical it is for Dauntless to return safely to Alliance space. The item it carries is of incalculable value.”

“I haven’t forgotten that,” Geary replied in an equally quiet tone.

“Have you forgotten that I have it in my power to pull from your command the ship contingents from the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation?”

“No. I’d strongly urge you not to do that.” Geary tried to look like he imagined someone should look when they knew the risks but could still be confident. “I’d wanted more training time, but the fleet can handle this well. There are good reasons for why I’m doing this. I’d like to have your ships participate.”

“And if I refuse to allow that?”

Geary exhaled heavily. “There’d be nothing I could do about it. You know that.”

She eyed him for a long moment while Geary ached to get back to the developing battle, but he knew he had to resolve this situation first. “Very well, Captain Geary. Your actions thus far have earned you the benefit of the doubt from me. You have your battle and you have the ships of the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation. May the living stars grant that neither of us regrets our decision.”

“Thank you.” Geary took another deep breath and turned back to his display. It would be several hours before the fleets clashed, but he’d already set events in motion that would make that battle inevitable. He needed to use the intervening time to maximize his chances of winning. And planning for what to do if disaster struck and he had to pull another desperate retreat out of his hat.