Guardian

Seventeen

Old Earth was much farther distant than the “Shield of Sol” warships, so it was no surprise that they had not yet heard anything from Sol Star System authorities when a reply came from the outer-star forces.

The gaudy commander of the outer-star warships, whom Geary found himself unable to think of except as Mister Medals, this time acted not only bored but also how-dare-you imperious. “I am His Excellency Captain Commodore First Rank Stellar Guard of the Fist of the People Earun Tavistorevas, Paramount of the Shield of Sol. You are to use my full title when communicating with an officer of my position. I have no interest in whatever orders you received from the vulgar leaders of your barbarous society. You will comply with my orders. If you do not immediately reduce velocity and power down all offensive and defensive systems, I will destroy you as well as every tramontane impurity you have brought into our Home.”

“I don’t think they want to negotiate,” Desjani said, as the transmission ended. Her words sounded light, but her expression was dour.

Geary knew why. The Shield of Sol ships had kept closing on Dauntless. Having upped their velocity to point two three light speed, the other warships were only a couple of hours from overtaking the Alliance battle cruiser. Of the many other spacecraft in Sol Star System, all of them civilian ships, the ones whose tracks would have brought them anywhere near the tracks of Dauntless and the other warships had all altered course to stay well away. They obviously expected the worst. The Dancers had stayed with Dauntless, but was that for the best? Wouldn’t they be safer if he told them to scatter, to head for the hypernet gate and home? But what if they didn’t listen? How could he protect them? How could Dauntless be saved? In an attempt to distract himself, Geary spoke loudly. “Does anyone have any idea why he keeps using terms that have to do with purity and vulgarity?”

Everyone on the bridge shook their heads, so Geary repeated the question to Lieutenant Iger.

“No, sir. They seem to think they are somehow special.”

“I had already gathered that on my own,” Geary said, breaking the call to Iger with an abruptness he knew was unusual. Something was bothering him. Something that loomed just beyond his conscious awareness like a huge beast staying out of his sight but close enough that he could tell it was there.

He stared at his display, feeling an unusual tightness in his guts. He could feel his breaths becoming quicker and shallower. A strange object seemed to be stuck in his throat.

“Admiral?”

He had been here before. He hadn’t been good enough that time.

“Admiral.”

Desjani’s tone broke through Geary’s fixation on his display. He looked over at her.

She was watching him with first surprise, then appraisal. “What’s the matter?”

He tried to answer, and that effort finally caused him to understand what had rattled him so badly. Why now? I can’t have a flashback now. I thought I was past this. Whatever was impeding his breathing also kept him from saying anything.

Desjani was leaning close, her voice very low and fierce. “Dammit, Jack, what’s the matter?”

He met her eyes and managed to say one word. “Grendel.”

“Grendel?” Tanya eyed him, puzzled, then her expression cleared. “Grendel. You, one ship, against bad odds, trying to protect a convoy. This is the first time you’ve faced that situation since you fought there.”

He nodded. Thank our ancestors that she understood, that I didn’t have to try to explain something I don’t entirely understand. This isn’t Grendel.

“This isn’t Grendel,” she said on the heels of his own thought.

Words broke from him in a sudden rush. “Tanya, I had my ship blown apart around me. Most of my crew killed. If that happens again—”

“This is my ship, Admiral. If Dauntless gets blown apart, I will be on her bridge fighting her to the last.”

Geary stared at her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

She actually reached across and grabbed his wrist, the sort of physical contact they normally avoided to keep anyone from gossiping about the admiral and his wife the captain. “Listen. If I die here, it won’t be just your fault. It’ll be mine, too. This is my ship. I will stay with her until the end. And you will get everyone you can off of her, if that is our fate. We’ve been blessed with each other for a time far too short. But we never should have met at all. You should have died a century ago. You didn’t, and I won’t now.”

“Tanya—”

“Listen. I am certain that I can drive Dauntless better than any of those pretty boys and girls on their fancy ships. One-on-one, I’d kick their butts. But we’re up against a bunch of them, and I need somebody looking at the overall situation, outthinking and outguessing Mister Medals. Together, we can do this. But this is no time for stress memories to throw you off. If that happens, if you go jelly on me, we’re dead. Will you go jelly on me?”

“No!”

She bared her teeth in a grin that was half snarl. “Damn straight. You never have, and you never will. Throw it off or bury it or whatever you need to do until we’ve beaten these guys. Can you do that, or do I need to call a doc up here to give you some head meds?”

“Yes.” He realized only after saying the word how calmly and firmly it had come out. “I can do that. But get a doc here anyway. Everybody up here can tell I’m rattled, and I want them to see I’m dealing with it smart. Thanks to you. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Not enough. I’ll let you know if you ever get there. But this is my duty, Admiral. Don’t forget that I’d be doing this no matter who was sitting in that seat.” Desjani released his wrist and settled back in her seat, tapping one of her internal comm controls. “Sick bay, we need a head check on the bridge. Nothing critical, just some safeguards.”

Geary rubbed his chin and cast discreet glances around the bridge. As he suspected, everyone was pretending not to have noticed anything unusual regarding the admiral and their commanding officer. Being able to pretend you hadn’t noticed a superior officer’s behavior was one of the essential survival traits in the fleet, and probably in any military throughout human history. “All right. We’ve got a couple of hours even if we don’t accelerate to reposition.” He had learned to say such things the right way. The fleet, scarred by a century of war and fixated on honor, did not retreat, and it did not flee pursuit. It repositioned. “We’ve got some advantages.”

“Right. We’re faster.” Desjani waved at her display. “We’ve got more mass than those megacruisers, but even bigger main propulsion relative to that, so we’ve got a better thrust-to-mass ratio. Assuming their inertial dampers are no better than ours, we can outturn and outaccelerate them.”

He frowned at his own display. “Anything else?”

“They’ve got even less armor than we do.” She frowned at her display. “In terms of weapons, it doesn’t feel right at all. They’ve got to have more weaponry than we’re seeing. I can’t call that an advantage. Maybe they don’t have a null-field generator, but we’ll have to get awful close to use that, and they might have something different but just as deadly.”

“Not much good there,” Geary commented. “What else?”

“We’ve got you.”

Geary actually felt himself smiling. “And you. Best damned ship driver in the fleet.”

She grinned. “And my crew,” she added. “Been there, done that. We know our job.”

He paused to think, only to be interrupted by the communications watch-stander. “Captain, we have a message from Sol Star System authorities.”

“Route it to the Admiral and me,” she ordered.

Geary watched intently as the comm window popped into existence near him. He had somehow expected the people of Old Earth to look different. Older. Wiser. Smarter. But the two women and one man who looked out at him didn’t seem any different from anyone else he had ever talked to. Perhaps there was a tinge of fatigue around their eyes, a sense of age beyond the years their faces revealed. Their clothes were nothing like the ornate uniforms on the warships, instead being simple in design, the colors evoking a sense of brightness faded but still strong.

“Greetings to the ship Dauntless of the Alliance,” one of the women said. “We are excited beyond measure at the news you bring of contact with a nonhuman intelligence, and at the possibility of meeting the ambassadors from that species you have escorted here.

“Unfortunately, as you must have already discovered, Sol Star System has been occupied by a military force from the Covenant of the First Stars, which claims to be protecting us. We have protested their actions and have been trying for the last two decades to reach agreement on procedures for attempting to assemble a coalition of other nearby powers to expel the Covenant warships from Sol. However, that effort has been complex due to the special status of Sol and worries about provoking aggression from the Covenant against other star systems. There have been no wars in this region of space for several decades, and no major conflicts for the last two centuries.”

“They’ve been trying for two decades?” Desjani said. “Two decades spent arguing over whether to do anything?”

“Yeah,” Geary agreed. “Rione was right about how Sol Star System does things. Or doesn’t do things. It prevents aggression but also defense. So much for the idea that Sol is a unique oasis of peace and harmony among the stars of human-occupied space. Still, it looks like there hasn’t been much actual fighting.”

The woman from Old Earth was still speaking. “We can offer you no assistance against the Covenant military force. Because of that, we urge you to act in whatever manner you deem best, keeping ever in mind that you are at the Home of Humanity. It is better that you, and these representatives from another species, be safe than that you run unnecessary risks.

“This is Dominika Borkowski, for the people and the Home, end.”

Geary rubbed his nose, grimaced, then nodded to Desjani. “Please have your people forward that message to our senators and envoys.”

She gave the orders, then turned back to Geary. “What do you suppose they’ll do with it?”

“I don’t know. Debate what to reply. What can we do with it?”

“They gave us a free hand,” Desjani pointed out.

“That’s because they didn’t know they were talking to Tanya Desjani,” Geary replied dryly.

A medical assistant came onto the bridge, did a brief scan of Geary, offered him a tailored med patch that his equipment had ejected, and Geary slapped it on as the assistant checked with the others on the bridge. The actual effects of the meds would take a couple of minutes to manifest, but he felt better just from the psychological results of knowing relief was on the way and would not cloud his judgment.

“All right,” Geary said. “I am going to send an answer to the Sol Star System authorities.” He straightened, got a quick appraisal of his appearance from Tanya, then tapped the reply command. “This is Admiral Geary of the Alliance Fleet, senior military commander aboard Dauntless. Thank you for your reply and your warning. The representatives of the Alliance government aboard Dauntless are crafting an official response, but for now we would be very grateful for any information you can provide us regarding the Covenant and any details regarding the Covenant warships. Those warships are blocking our return to the hypernet gate, and moving to intercept us and the ships of the Dancers, which we have vowed to protect, so we may be unable to avoid taking necessary actions to defend ourselves and the Dancers. Your information may be of great assistance in our efforts.

“Our actions will take into account this star system and its special status. Unlike the Covenant, we do not seek violence here.

“To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”

He sat back, eyes on his display, not really aware for the moment that everyone else on the bridge was watching him, waiting for what Black Jack would come up with to save Dauntless and the Dancers, and to beat a little humility into Mister Medals and the ships of the Covenant. “Tanya, let’s assume our government representatives will be tied up indefinitely debating what to do. I am pretty certain that Rione will do her best to keep them occupied and out of our hair. I think we should tell the Dancers to continue on toward Old Earth while we turn to engage those Covenant ships.”

“Good plan,” she replied. “Except… I know it’s unusual for me to worry about diplomatic junk, but maybe this one time it might be a good idea to make sure they fire first.”

“So we’re unquestionably acting in self-defense? Do you have any suggestions on how we can bring that about, Captain Desjani?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, Admiral Geary.” Desjani moved her hands to illustrate her words as she outlined her plan. “We brake Dauntless’s velocity to point zero five light and let the Dancers continue on toward Old Earth at point one light while the Covies overtake us a lot faster. The Covies keep telling us to drop our shields and we keep telling them it’s not going to happen in ways that will make Mister Medals even more unhappy with our attitudes. When we get in range, Mister Medals opens fire, Dauntless lights off full acceleration, and we avoid their first volley of missiles. Then we kick their butts.”

“An interesting plan,” Geary said. “The last part is a little vague, though.”

“We’ll have to improvise.”

The meds had definitely kicked in. The lurking beast had gone from his mind. Geary studied his display with a mind clear and focused, the past only something that he could use to help figure out tactics to employ here and now. “It’s risky. We don’t know how good their missiles are.”

Desjani brought up, floating between her and Geary, an image of the Covenant formation. “Did you look at this? Watch.” She waved in another command, and curved lines connected the warships, the lines forming—

“A bird?” Geary said, not believing what he was seeing. “They’re arranged that way because it makes a pretty picture?”

“Yes. Those four corvettes and megacruisers on the sides? We couldn’t figure out why they were there because we were evaluating the formation in terms of functionality in battle. But if you look at that formation in terms of show, the two corvettes and single megacruiser on either side form the wings.”

“Ancestors preserve us. They’re getting ready to fight us in a parade formation?”

“That woman from Old Earth,” Desjani pressed, “said there hadn’t been any fighting around here for decades and nothing serious for centuries. Imagine our own fleet headquarters without any actual combat issues or experience or demands to influence their decisions. Decade after decade of that, the emphasis on how good things look rather than how well they work, while weapons and designs are evaluated in bureaucratic terms rather than whether they work or not and officers get awards for how fancy their hair is done up.”

“Mister Medals.” He looked at his display using new eyes. “But there are a lot of them and only one of us. What if they send a pursuit after the Dancers?”

“Those clowns cannot catch the Dancer ships unless the Dancers let them,” Desjani said.

“True. We’ll have to assume the Dancers will stay clear of trouble. That leaves Old Earth and the other historical sites throughout this star system. We can’t risk anything’s happening to those places.”

She stared at him. “You don’t think they’d fire on Home?”

“I don’t know.” He let his own gaze settle again on the blue-white orb shown on his display. “You and I look at that and can’t imagine doing it harm. But the craters on the surface show that in the past other humans have dropped rocks on the Home of all of us. What humans have done once, they can do again. That’s why we can’t afford to string this out using the distance to Old Earth’s orbit. The farther we go in-system, the closer we get to places like Home, and Mars and Venus, as well as all of the shipping near those planets. We’ll have to get this done out here, where space is emptier, and we’ll have to keep the attention of the Covies focused on us.”

It had worked at Grendel. Well enough, anyway.

If Dauntless dies here, if Tanya stays with her to the end, so will I. What the hell, I had a good run. But I lost everything once. I won’t lose everything that matters to me now.

Ancestors, what if she dies in the battle, and I don’t?

It must not happen. I will keep it from happening.

“Very well, Captain Desjani. We’ll follow your plan. Wait a couple of minutes, then reduce the velocity of Dauntless to point zero five light speed.” Geary tapped an internal comm control. “Envoy Charban, are you having any luck?”

Charban shrugged. “I can’t tell.”

“Dauntless is going to be slowing considerably, but we want the Dancers to continue on toward Old Earth without us. Can you get across to the Dancers that the other warships are enemies who are likely to attack us, and will attack them if the other warships get within range?”

“Brother enemies,” Charban said. “The Dancers understand that concept. I’ll tell them to keep on keeping on, and we’ll hope they do that.”

Maneuvering thrusters fired on Dauntless, pitching her bow up and over so that it faced back along her track, toward where the Covenant formation was coming on steadily. The main propulsion units fired to reduce her velocity, though Geary noticed that Desjani was only using half of the main units for that task. If the Covenant ships evaluated Dauntless’s maneuverability based on that, they would seriously underestimate her actual agility.

With the closure rate increasing dramatically, the time to contact began rapidly decreasing. “Forty minutes until the Covenant warships will be able to fire upon us if their missile ranges are equivalent to ours,” Lieutenant Yuon said.

Geary nodded absently, his eyes on the Dancers. They had matched Dauntless’s pivot, but were now pivoting back and moving onward without reducing speed. So far, so good. “Tanya, when we get into the estimated range envelope of the Covenant missiles, I’m going to leave when and how to maneuver Dauntless up to you.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Desjani looked back at her watch-standers. “Bring Dauntless to full combat status, but I do not want any sound of that to reach the senators aboard this ship. Keep their compartment silent.”

Geary nodded in an exaggerated manner. “We don’t want to interrupt their discussions. Those are very important.”

“Uh… right. Get the word out, people.”

Passageways and compartments that the day before had been filled with laughter and celebration would now be filled with officers and sailors racing to their combat stations. Real weapons would be powered up, real targets would be selected, and neither Jove’s trident nor Callisto’s bow would decide the result.

“All departments, report full combat readiness,” Lieutenant Castries said.

The image of Master Chief Gioninni appeared near Desjani. “Captain, as senior enlisted officer aboard the ship, I wish to suggest that you explain what’s going on. There are a lot of rumors flying, and with this being Sol, people are worried about different things than usual.”

“That’s a good suggestion, Master Chief,” Desjani approved. “Admiral Geary will address the crew.”

I will?

“Thank you, Captain.” Gioninni’s image vanished.

“Whenever you are ready, Admiral,” Desjani said, smiling at him.

“Thank you, Captain,” Geary said, deliberately echoing Gioninni. “Do you have a copy of what I was going to say? Because I seem to be having trouble recalling what it was.”

“No, but I remember the gist of it,” Desjani replied confidently, giving no hint that she was making it up as she went along. “Something about defending Sol and Old Earth against aggressors who have already targeted us.”

“Was that what it was?” Geary took a few moments to compose his thoughts. “The odds against us are awful, Tanya. How do I give the crew hope when they must be aware of that?”

“We don’t need hope,” she replied. “None of us hoped to survive the war with the Syndics, and none of us hoped to see the end of that war. We could hope to win each battle, but we’d fight like hell whether we thought we had a chance or not. Hope is for people who expect to see a better future. We stopped believing in that a long time ago and learned how to fight without that belief. Until you came. Haven’t you figured that out?”

He took a few seconds to reply. “I guess not.”

“Just tell everyone we didn’t choose this fight, but we’re going to win it.”

“All right.” Geary gestured to the comm watch-stander to have his voice broadcast everywhere on the ship except in the compartment where the senators were debating with each other and Rione. “This is Admiral Geary. As you may have heard, upon our arrival in Sol Star System, we discovered that one of the minor powers located in nearby star systems had violated the sanctity of Sol by stationing a flotilla of warships here. Those warships have threatened the people of Sol, and they have demanded that we surrender to them.

“The people of Sol have told us that they cannot defend themselves. We are being attacked, and those attacking us are also threatening Sol Star System and Old Earth. We did not seek a fight. We did not choose a fight. But because the aggressor warships here are blocking our route to the hypernet gate, threatening the Dancers, threatening Old Earth itself, and moving to intercept us, we have no choice but to fight. The odds do not favor us, but since we have to fight, we’re going to win.”

He could only hope that the bold shouts and cheers within Dauntless could not be heard by the senators, and if so, that the senators would think they were somehow related to the crossing-the-line celebration of the day before. “I guess that was good,” he told Tanya.

“It would have been better if you just said what I told you to say.”

“What I said was close to that.”

“You are not my editor, Admiral.” She tapped the arm of her chair lightly. “Half an hour to contact. The senators are probably going to notice when we start combat maneuvers.”

“Probably.” He left it at that.

“Another message from the other warships,” the comm watch-stander said.

Mister Medals appeared to be annoyed and a bit baffled, in the manner of someone who was so unused to being crossed that he didn’t quite know how to handle it. “You are quickly running out of time to comply with your instructions. I am not in the habit of repeating my directions. You are to drop your shields now and reduce your velocity now, or I will take any measures required to preserve the security and safety of Sol.”

Geary tapped his reply command. “I am not in the habit of accepting orders from a minor commander of minor forces representing a minor collection of star systems. You are to cease all offensive activity in this star system and you are to immediately change vectors to remove your ships from this star system by whichever means you choose. Sol cannot defend itself, but we can and will defend Sol as well as ourselves. Geary, out.”

Desjani gave him a grin. “I don’t think the senators would approve of that language.”

“No, they wouldn’t.” Could Rione keep them occupied until Dauntless was committed to the fight? The odds against them would get even worse if someone interfered with the plan they had come up with. “I just realized something.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good. With Rione having a vote, that means four votes. Left to themselves, those three senators might have settled on a two-to-one result after a little infighting. But with four votes, Rione can shift every time a majority starts to develop and keep everything stymied at two to two. Senator Navarro must have known she would be able to do that if he gave her his proxy.” Navarro, weary as he is of the ugly politics afflicting the Alliance, was canny enough to figure out how to frustrate any attempted interference with me. But if he anticipated the need for that, did he think I might face this situation? Did he know someone might try to set up this ambush at Sol? Or did Navarro just plan for the worst in case it was needed?

“Ten minutes to entering estimated threat envelope,” Lieutenant Yuon said.

“Are you going to keep your bow pointed at them?” Geary asked. Dauntless had been going backwards at very high speed ever since pivoting around to slow her velocity.

“Until I guess their missiles are launching,” Desjani confirmed. “I want my strongest weaponry and shields facing them.”

The remaining minutes passed with the usual slowness they acquired when waiting for a critical event. When Dauntless entered the missile threat envelope, there would be only a few seconds to react, but Geary sat back with every sign of calm confidence as he waited for Desjani to make her decision.

For her part, Desjani no longer seemed aware of him, her focus locked on the display before her.

“Entering—”

Lieutenant Yuon broke off as Dauntless pitched downward and accelerated at the maximum capability of her main propulsion units, then rolled into a skidding turn tens of thousands of kilometers wide as the thrusters on her port bow fired at full power.

Geary braced himself against momentum forces strong enough to leak past the inertial dampers. A low groan of straining metal and composites rose around him as Dauntless herself protested the stresses on her hull. On his display, red danger symbols marked a volley of missiles bending around in pursuit of Dauntless.

“They fired first,” Desjani said. “Request permission to return fire.”

Not only had the Covenant ships fired first, but they had unleashed a volley of missiles instead of a single warning shot. Any question about whether they sought Dauntless’s destruction had now been answered. “Permission granted. Take all necessary actions to defend Dauntless and the Dancer ships.”

Geary’s comm alert pulsed urgently. The senators had noticed the last maneuver, probably when it pitched them from their seats. “Yes?”

Senator Costa glared at him from a virtual window. “What is happening?”

“We have been fired upon by the warships of the Covenant flotilla, Senator. They opened fire without provocation, using sufficient force to have destroyed Dauntless if we had not maneuvered to evade their attack.” Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.

Geary’s silent plea was answered. Costa didn’t ask what Dauntless was doing now, her image vanishing without another word. She doubtless assumed that the battle cruiser was simply avoiding the attack and getting clear of danger.

On Geary’s display, the Covenant missiles were still closing on Dauntless, whipping through tighter turns than the battle cruiser could manage, the long arcs of their intercept vectors curving toward the place where Dauntless would be if she maintained her current course and speed.

But under Desjani’s command Dauntless bent her path upward and to starboard. The missiles had to react, swinging through wider arcs, burning their propulsion furiously as they sought to compensate for the battle cruiser’s latest maneuver.

“Admiral?” Lieutenant Iger’s image had appeared beside Geary. “Sir, the numbers of missiles in that volley match the number of missile launch points we had previously identified on the Covenant ships.”

“Good, that’s— What?” Geary moved his hand against the strain of Desjani’s latest maneuver, calling up data. “That’s all? On that many ships? That means the big ones only have two launchers apiece?”

“And the small ones have none,” Iger confirmed.

Geary stared at the statistics. “These ships have armament roughly comparable to our own auxiliaries. They’re a little better armed, but not much. Why the hell would anyone build a warship that big, that expensive, and that elaborate and put so few weapons on it?”

“I… don’t know, sir.”

Tanya was right. These people forgot about war-fighting when designing their ships. “Captain Desjani, your estimate about the firepower on these warships was correct.”

“Thank you, Admiral. That’s all I need to know.”

The threat symbols on Geary’s display were winking out as Covenant missiles ran out of power and went zooming off on their last vector, unable to maneuver and heading into endless, empty space. Desjani had brought Dauntless up and over and was now arcing back downward and to port as the Covenant formation raced to pass beneath her, making final adjustments in her track as the other warships stuck stubbornly to their own vectors.

“Targets designated,” Desjani said, her voice loud and almost unnaturally clear. “I want these, ladies and gentlemen. Make your shots count.”

Dauntless whipped through the outer edge of one wing of the Covenant formation, the other warships there and gone too fast for human senses to register, the battle cruiser still shuddering slightly from having unleashed every weapon that would bear.

Encounters in space often happened far too quickly for humans to react, but automated systems could track and fire at the proper instants, choosing just the right millisecond to unleash weapons at where another ship would be when the weapon passed through that same spot. Now Dauntless’s sensors were evaluating the result of that firing pass while Desjani brought her battle cruiser sweeping back to starboard to come up behind the Covenant warships.

One wing of the Covenant formation had disappeared. Three of the little corvettes were simply gone, their power cores overloaded by Dauntless’s barrage of hell lances and grapeshot, and the megacruiser on that wing had been broken into several large pieces, which were tumbling in the wake of the Covenant formation.

The Covies had fired back, but Dauntless had taken most of the hits on her shields, only one penetrating to damage the hull. “Get that grapeshot launcher back online,” Desjani ordered. She sounded frustrated, not triumphant. “We didn’t get enough of them, and now we’re the ones in a stern chase,” she grumbled to Geary as Dauntless’s main propulsion units pushed the battle cruiser to ever-higher velocity.

“We’ll get them,” he said with more confidence than he felt, one eye on the hull-stress meters, which were edging into red danger zones as Desjani’s maneuvers pushed the battle cruiser to the limits of what her hull could withstand even with the help of the inertial dampers.

A sudden commotion behind him marked the return of the senators to the bridge. “What is going on?” Senator Suva demanded.

“We’re defending ourselves and the Dancers in accordance with the orders given to me by the government,” Geary replied, while Desjani studiously ignored the presence of the politicians.

“Then the weapons which this ship fired were defensive?” Senator Sakai asked, his tone as mild as usual.

“Absolutely.”

“We are in a combat situation,” Rione said. “Our presence on the bridge is disruptive.”

Costa and Suva rounded on her, but before they could speak, Sakai did. “Envoy Rione is correct.”

“She is not,” Suva insisted. “This hero has started another war while she kept us tied down with debates!”

Rione met Suva’s eyes with cool resolve. “Who fired the first shot, Admiral?”

“They did,” Geary said. “A volley of missiles as soon as we were within range. We had no alternative but to defend ourselves against a force that the authorities in Sol Star System have told us is unwelcome and uninvited.”

Lieutenant Yuon cleared his throat apologetically as he interrupted the debate. “At our current closing rate, we’ll be within range of the rear of the Covenant formation in forty-two minutes, Captain.”

“We’re chasing them?” Suva asked, disbelieving. “If they want to kill us, why aren’t we just avoiding them?”

Geary called up the display at the observer’s seat. The Covenant formation, one wing gone, had continued on a long, shallow trajectory that crossed the path of the Dancers much farther inside the star system. “They are still pursuing the Dancers. They’re on an intercept course with them. They have indicated an intent to attack the Dancers, too. What would you have us do, Senator?”

Suva covered her eyes, then nodded. “I am not a fool, Admiral. Our discussions with the Covenant commander have been even less fruitful than those with my companions on the grand council. Too many minds are set too firmly in opposition, and some of those minds will not stop at debate. Do what you must to save all of us. We’ll try to sweep up the mess afterwards.” She sounded defeated and worn-out.

Costa glared at her. “Now you see why our earlier decisions were necessary to ensure the safety of the Alliance—”

“You would talk of those decisions here?” Sakai asked, his voice still calm but somehow easily cutting across Costa’s.

Senator Costa jerked, looking around as if she had indeed again forgotten where she was. “I… no.” Her gaze fastened on Rione. “Some individuals may have a voting proxy, but they do not have authorization to know everything that the grand council has done for the Alliance.”

“I count myself lucky in that respect.” Rione sounded amused, but her voice had an iron edge under the humor. “Or do you mean everything the grand council has done to the Alliance? I might know more of that than you think, Senator. Many people may know more of that than you think.”

Costa, very obviously not looking at Geary now, stomped off the bridge, followed by Suva, who gave Rione a questioning look different from her customary hostility as the envoy followed Suva. Behind them came Sakai, his feelings as usual masked.

Assorted lieutenants and other watch-standers watched the politicians go, their eyes wide and their mouths wisely shut.

“Back on task, everyone,” Desjani ordered. Even though she had not turned around or apparently paid attention to the politicians and the argument, her command came the instant the hatch sealed behind them.

Geary did his best to put the senators out of his mind as well, focusing back on the situation. “We should get within range of them slightly before they catch up with the Dancers.” At that point, though, coming up from behind, they would face the firepower of the entire Covenant formation again, without the same ability to dodge missiles unless they turned away and failed to engage the other warships.

A sudden intake of breath by Tanya was followed by her pointing at her display. “No, we won’t catch them before that. Look. The Dancers have turned back toward us. They’re going to run into those Covenant warships long before we catch up.”