Leviathan

Ten

The next day, Geary was not surprised to get a call from Admiral Timbale asking him to stop by Ambaru Station for a vaguely defined liaison conference. Timbale met him at the shuttle dock, waved away the Marines and soldiers providing security for Geary and Timbale, and led the way deeper inside Ambaru, along passageways that had a curious absence of other pedestrians. “How does everything look?” Timbale asked as they walked. “There’s something I wanted to show you,” he added before Geary could respond.

Timbale offered a stream of remarks about the status of Ambaru and the forces at Varandal under his command, but nothing of great consequence. Geary tried to restrain his curiosity as he walked with Timbale into an area of Ambaru he thought he recognized.

They came to a stop before a high-security hatch that Geary knew he had seen before. Outside of it stood several special forces ground troops, none of them armored but all carrying weapons, and all alert in the manner of men and women trained to be aware of their surroundings and any potential threat.

“Who’s in there?” Geary asked.

“No one,” Timbale replied. “I thought you might want to go inside for a few minutes, though.” He leaned close and murmured more of an explanation. “There’s no one in there, but the person who isn’t in there has come here to speak to you.”

“I see,” Geary said. “I guess I’ll take a look around in there, then.” One of the special forces soldiers opened the hatch without looking inside, then saluted as Geary walked in.

There was one person sitting in the room that supposedly contained no one. Geary stood still as the hatch sealed behind him. “Senator Unruh. I’ve seen you before, but we haven’t formally met before this.”

Unruh smiled briefly. “We still haven’t met. I’m not here.” Her eyes challenged him to debate the point.

Instead, he nodded again. This sort of thing would have flummoxed him once, but after his experiences in the last year, he had learned to roll with whatever happened until he figured out why it was happening. “You’re not here. Why isn’t Senator Navarro or Senator Sakai not here?”

“Because they’re both seen as tied to you,” Unruh explained, leaning back in her seat. “Yes, even ‘Slick’ Sakai, who as a rule keeps his every thought and preference carefully concealed, has betrayed what can only be described as trust in Admiral Black Jack Geary. I, on the other hand, have only personally seen you once, during that interrogation of you by representatives of the grand council, and I have never exchanged messages with you. No one is watching me to see if I am sneaking away to talk to the great Black Jack instead of sneaking away to plot my political future with rich and influential donors whose identities are best kept hidden.”

“Why are you not here instead of plotting with those donors?” Geary asked.

“Because most of those donors don’t actually exist in my case, and because we, the Senate, have created a monster, and you are just about our only hope for dealing with it,” Unruh explained.

“The dark ships?”

“Yes. The dark ships, as you call them. The product of an entire covert structure that made that construction program possible and allowed it to be hidden. A covert structure that has proven unexpectedly hard to direct.” She grimaced. “It shouldn’t have been unexpected. Over the last several decades, the Alliance government built something that was designed to operate invisibly. It’s gotten so good at that we can no longer be certain what it is doing.”

“They’re not required to report to anyone?”

“Different theys are indeed required to report to different someones,” Unruh agreed. “But it has only recently occurred to a variety of senior officials that they have no way of knowing whether or not those organizations are indeed making the reports they are supposed to make. I know what I’ve been told about my own piece of that covert pie, but there is no means for me to learn whether I’ve been told all I should have been or what else is happening outside of my supposed oversight.”

“Can’t you demand answers?” Geary said. “Fire people who don’t provide the answers?”

Unruh leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and gazing at Geary. “I have more than sufficient grounds for assuming that some of those people already regard me as one of the enemies their organizations were designed to protect the Alliance against. If I go after them, I don’t know what might happen.”

“Then there has already been a coup against the government,” Geary said angrily. “Who is giving the orders at Unity?”

“The Senate will be, soon enough, as we should have been all along. Why do you think the government wanted not just most of your assault transports but also most of your Marines, Admiral? It wasn’t because we wanted to disarm you.” Unruh smiled, a baring of her incisors that held no humor at all. “On the contrary. It finally occurred to enough people in high places that the people they have been worried about, the front-line combatants who long ago decided the Alliance government was a big part of the problems they faced, are actually among the people we can completely trust. You have provided a powerful example of support for the government. We know that your Marines will follow orders from the government.”

“Lawful orders,” Geary said.

“Absolutely,” Unruh agreed. “To put it bluntly, we want those Marines to protect the government against some of the other forces we created in the name of protecting the Alliance. When we move against the people who misled us as to the programs we were approving, and who have acted with far too much autonomy under the veils of excessive secrecy, we want those Marines guarding us and our offices.”

“You’ve finally figured out that they aren’t the enemy?” Geary asked. “That I’m not the enemy?”

“We’ve spent a century at war, Admiral,” Unruh said. “A century of fear and death and attacks and reprisals and a foe who would do anything except stop fighting us. After a while, everyone and everything looks dangerous. I want your promise, your word of honor, that you will follow lawful orders and will not move against the government.”

Geary scowled at the senator. “Why do I need to do that? How many times have I said exactly that in public and to representatives of the government? How many times have I clearly demonstrated that I would follow orders and support the government?”

“You have done that,” Unruh conceded. “But I ask for the affirmation once again because there are still some who fear you. I apologize for the implied insult to your honor. I apologize to your ancestors, who are also insulted by the implication that you would act in a dishonorable manner. Will you give me that statement?”

“I’ll give it to you. Will they listen this time?”

“Let’s hope so.” Unruh rubbed her mouth, then focused back on him. “We need you to stop them. The Defender Fleet.”

“That’s the official name of the dark ships?” Geary asked.

“Yes. Can you do it? I’ve seen some reports from Bhavan.”

“My fleet very nearly got destroyed at Bhavan.” He saw the worry flare in Senator Unruh’s eyes. “The dark ships outnumber my own forces, they’re brand-new where my warships have seen a lot of damage which I have never had the money, time, or resources to get completely repaired, I have only received a few replacements for the losses the fleet has suffered, and the artificial intelligences running the dark ships are programmed specifically to counter me. Since Bhavan, I have been unable to come up with any battle scenario in which my fleet can triumph without being practically wiped out itself.”

“You must have a plan. You’re Black Jack.”

“I’ve never been the imaginary hero the government created to inspire its people,” Geary said. “I do have a plan, but it’s risky. We’re going to try to destroy the base of the dark ships, deny them the means to repair and resupply themselves, then try to fend off any more attacks until their fuel cells are exhausted. But for that to work, we have to figure out how to get to that base, then hit that base while the dark ships are elsewhere.”

“You know where the base is?” Unruh asked.

“We’re pretty certain,” Geary said. “I could use confirmation. I could also use a means to get there.”

She reached out and touched controls, bringing the star display to life between them. Unruh moved one finger to indicate the binary star system. “Here.”

Geary nodded. “That was our guess.”

“You found Unity Alternate? I’m impressed. I was anticipating a long and difficult discussion to get you to believe that was where you needed to go.”

“I already had that discussion. Otherwise, you might have had trouble convincing me. To be honest, the Dancers pointed us there.”

“The Dancers.” Senator Unruh looked at Geary for several seconds. “Do you know why?”

“No. How do I get my fleet to Unity Alternate?”

“Through the hypernet.” Unruh extended her other hand, showing that it held a data coin. “This has the code for the gate at Unity Alternate. It will allow the hypernet keys on your warships to access that gate.”

Geary took the coin, studying it. “I’ve been told that once a key was created, it could not be altered. How can this input a new gate?”

“It doesn’t. Ever since the gate was constructed at Unity Alternate, all Alliance hypernet keys have contained the data for that gate. But the data was blocked, concealed from the key controls. The code I’m giving you will simply allow your keys to finally see that gate data and give you the option of going there.” She gestured in the general direction of Syndic space. “It had to be designed that way. If the government had ever retreated to Unity Alternate to keep the war going, any surviving Alliance warships would have had to be able to get there as well. The capability has been built in, to be activated if and when it was needed.”

“And now it is,” Geary said, carefully putting away the coin. “But not because of the Syndics.”

“No.” Unruh made an angry gesture. “Self-inflicted wounds.”

“What can you tell me about Unity Alternate? What exactly is there?”

Unruh made a casting-away gesture this time. “I don’t know. There have been some extremely large construction projects hidden within the covert programs budget. Other work was done before my time and has since been buried in the mass of classified data that threatens to swallow the Alliance whole. There will be some orbiting facilities for a skeleton government to operate. How big are they? It depends upon what was demanded decades ago. It could be an orbiting city. Probably less than that, though, but still substantial. One of your tasks, if you can achieve it given the threat of the dark ships, is to find out everything that orbiting facility has been and is being used for, and what information is available in its databases.”

“It’s that bad?” Geary asked. “The government doesn’t know what’s going on there?”

“We don’t know whether we know, Admiral.” Senator Unruh appeared to be embarrassed to admit that. “It’s a big, big galaxy, and even though the Alliance occupies a pretty small portion of that galaxy, it still is immensely large by any human scale. The Alliance government expanded rapidly under the pressure of the war. With so many people, so many organizations and bureaus and offices and commands, in so many star systems, under constant attack and threat of attack by the Syndics, and the inevitable time lags involved in trying to coordinate and control events across so many light-years, the proverbial bubble broke a long time ago. We’re going to try to put it back together again, but it is a mammoth task.”

“I understand,” Geary said. “I just have to worry about orbiting facilities? There are no habitable planets there or installations on the six planets in that star system?”

“Not according to my information. That is hardly definitive, however.” The senator bent her lips in a sardonic smile. “I actually encountered one individual who refused to confirm or deny the existence of habitable planets at Unity itself.”

Geary stared at her in disbelief. “It’s common knowledge that there are two habitable worlds at Unity. Everyone knows that. It’s in every star guide.”

“Which did not impress that individual in the least, Admiral. Just because everyone knows something that is supposedly classified is no grounds for reconsidering whether it should be classified.” Unruh looked like she wanted to punch someone, then cleared her expression and focused back on Geary. “Ancestors alone know how much else has been classified. Now, back on topic. In the past, the government would have also built support facilities at Unity Alternate for whichever Alliance warships survived to join the government there. Important supplies would have been stockpiled there. We deliberately left you with the portion of your assigned Marines who would be best at storming the facilities at Unity Alternate if that proved necessary, as it has, and believe me, working that out without anyone’s figuring out our intent was not easy. We have no idea what sort of defenses might be at those facilities, but we are fairly certain there is no actual military presence.”

She paused. “We think we have shut off resources and information intended for the Defender Fleet, but we can’t be certain they will not somehow hear of plans against them. I wish I could offer more assurances on that, but I can’t, not until we move at Unity, and there is a strong suspicion that our moves at Unity could trigger a Defender Fleet move against us. We’re hoping you can prevent that.

“Since Unity Alternate is the home base for the Defender Fleet, you can assume the facilities there have been automated to the maximum possible extent. There are strong indications the Defender Fleet was designed to operate totally autonomously for an extended period, without depending on human support at any level.”

Geary bit back his first words, carefully recasting them before speaking. “Do you know whose idea it was to cut humans out of the loop?”

“It seems to have been a group consensus,” Unruh replied. “Various contractors were wildly enthusiastic at the idea, complete with assurances that nothing could go wrong. What those assurances were worth we learned when our auditors discovered fine print in their contracts that, once translated from lawyer-speak, said if anything did go wrong it wouldn’t create any legal liability for the contractors. Your own fleet headquarters was also eager to embrace the idea. As their decision paper put it, totally automated systems would eliminate problems with field commanders who sometimes failed to execute their orders as given.”

“You can’t have field commanders thinking for themselves, now can you?” Geary said.

“Apparently not. But I think the main concern of your fleet headquarters was personnel costs. You have no idea how huge the budget is that the Alliance Senate deals with, and how huge the military personnel costs are within that budget.”

“Why is spending on equipment an investment and spending on people a cost? I’ve always thought that personnel expenses should be considered investments as well, not costs,” Geary said. “Calling them costs creates the image that it is just money being thrown away because we have no choice. But that money is an investment in the people who make all of the difference in effectiveness and efficiency and everything else.”

The senator raised her eyebrows at him. “That’s an interesting word choice. And a worthwhile argument for future budgets. In terms of commitments we already face, retirement hasn’t been that big an expense given that relatively few personnel survived long enough to retire,” Unruh added bitterly, “but existing medical costs are immense. The citizens of the Alliance clamoring for reduced spending don’t realize how much of that spending has to go to helping those who gave pieces of themselves to defending us.”

“Have you told them?” Geary asked. “Has anybody gone to the citizens and said here is why we need this money, here is who it has to go to, this is why we owe it to them?”

Senator Unruh looked at Geary, then shook her head. “I doubt it. Oh, I’ve had senators hitting me up to know where the money is going because they weren’t read into the Defender Fleet program and couldn’t understand how much funds that money-sink has been eating up. Those automated systems have devoured more and more of the budget as costs and complexities mounted. But no one has been beating my door down demanding that we spend more money on people. I promise you I will make that case myself.”

“I need money here, too,” Geary said. “My people are scrambling to find the funds needed to keep repairing my damaged ships, and even to keep day-to-day operations going.”

“That’s ridiculous. Your fleet headquarters has said nothing about that but has requested extra funds to expand their own offices and operations. They claim that as force levels shrink, the staff must grow to deal with the additional challenges,” she added wryly.

Geary inhaled deeply, considering his next words carefully. “That’s an interesting perspective on priorities,” he finally said.

Unruh smiled. “Isn’t it? Senator Sakai suggested that if artificial intelligences would make effective replacements for field commanders, they would probably do even better as replacements for headquarters commanders. For some reason, that proposal was not enthusiastically received at fleet headquarters.”

“I can’t imagine why not.”

“It is a mystery,” Senator Unruh said. “I promise you there will be a supplemental appropriation introduced specifically for your fleet when I get back.”

Geary regarded her closely. “Can I trust you, Senator?”

She smiled again though only slightly this time. “I hope so.”

“Do you have all the answers?”

“Me?” Unruh laughed. “That would be nice. I’m looking for the answers. I’m asking questions. I’m trying to figure out where we go from here.”

“Then I think I can trust you,” Geary said. “Most of my problems seem to originate with people who are certain they know all the answers. Will you need an escort back to Unity?”

“As you saw outside of this room, I have some special forces accompanying me on what is officially a training mission,” Unruh said. “My ship is old but can outrun anything in space, I’m told. It was designed specifically to help senators and other high officials get away fast when necessary. Part of the Unity Alternate program, apparently, though I imagine that more than one senator thought it could come in handy in other circumstances. You weren’t offering to escort me back with your fleet, were you?”

Geary shook his head. “It would be very bad imagery, I think, for Black Jack to show up at Unity with a fleet.”

“Very bad imagery,” Senator Unruh agreed. “We want to forestall a covert coup, not make it look like an overt coup is taking place. Besides, all of those warships would make my return far too high-profile for what is supposed to be a very low-profile mission. One last thing. We believe that the dark ships are focused on you.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Geary said. “The dark ships’ tactics at Bhavan confirmed it. They want to destroy the First Fleet, but they also want me dead.”

Unruh shook her head, looking off to one side. “I have reason to believe that you were programmed into a contingency target set that might have activated without proper authorization, but I suspect there are private reasons as well for your personally being a priority objective.”

“Admiral Bloch?” Geary asked.

“He got command of the Defender Fleet,” she said, “as I understand you were already told. Bloch still has, or still had, some powerful political backers. But I have been unable to confirm his current status.”

“Do you think Bloch has effective control of the dark ships? I’ve seen them doing things that I didn’t think Bloch would order.”

“I think he has influenced them to some extent. But I am certain he’s not in control now if he ever really was.” The senator gazed directly at Geary. “There is more than one way to neutralize a threat, Admiral. Some people wanted Admiral Bloch in a certain position because they hoped to benefit from that. But others of us intended all along that Bloch would be neutralized by giving him what he thought he wanted. He might still be alive, but if so, he is likely more miserable than when the Syndics had him. That’s ironic, isn’t it? He has all of space available to the warship he is aboard, but his compartments on that warship might form a very small prison from which there may be no escape.”

Geary looked back at her, appalled. “What if you’re right about that? Does even Bloch deserve such a fate?”

Senator Unruh stood up, sighing. “He got what he wanted, Admiral. If it isn’t what he thought it would be, that’s his own fault. And a useful lesson to anyone else who thinks pursuit of power is the path to happiness.”

“Where does the pursuit of power lead?” Geary asked as they waited for the hatch to open.

She gave him an amused look. “You care what I think? All right, then. Trying to accomplish something that requires someone to pursue power leads toward that something. But the pursuit of power as an end in itself doesn’t lead anywhere. It’s like someone walking on the surface of a Mobius strip. They go up and down and over and around, but they never reach a destination. They just keep walking, and wondering why they never get anywhere no matter how far and fast they walk.”

“Thank you, Senator.”

“For what? Letting you know just how badly we’ve screwed up and how much we’re counting on you to fix things?”

Geary shook his head. “No. For giving me proof that my faith in the government is not entirely misplaced.”

She stepped out to join the special forces soldiers, who began forming an escort around the senator. But Unruh turned to look back at Geary, her expression somber. “You do me too much honor, Admiral. I will do what I can to live up to your faith.”

Admiral Timbale waited until Senator Unruh and her escort had disappeared around a corner before turning a questioning look on Geary. “How did the meeting go?”

“What meeting?” Geary asked.

“Right.” Timbale walked alongside Geary in the opposite direction from that Senator Unruh and her escort had gone. “Is there anything I should know?”

Geary pondered what he could say. “We’re not alone.”

“Exactly who is we?”

“The good guys.” Geary smiled crookedly at Timbale. “Right?”

“I sure hope so.” Timbale walked a few more steps. “Do you still have those two agents aboard Dauntless?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I still want them shot, remember?” Admiral Timbale glanced around, then checked a security device on his wrist to ensure they could not be overheard. “I have been apprised of subtle indications that someone is nosing around, trying to figure out what we might have learned from those agents.”

“We’ll make sure security around their cells remains tight,” Geary said. “Anything else?”

“I received classified orders to locate former Alliance senator Victoria Rione. There are people who want to talk to her.”

“Which people?” Geary asked.

“I can’t tell. That’s left fairly vague in the orders,” Timbale explained. “For that matter, just who originated the orders was left fairly vague. Which is why I haven’t been overly worried about trying to locate Rione.”

“It sounds like some other people are worried,” Geary said.

“I certainly would be if I were one of those responsible for what happened to her husband.” Timbale rubbed his nose. “By the way, my security people, the ones I trust, said they had found some odd anomalies in our security routines, some additional covert applications that could have allowed someone like Victoria Rione to pass through Ambaru as recently as a day or two ago without any alerts being sounded.”

“Really?” Geary asked.

“Yes. If she comes onto Ambaru again, she would be spotted.” Timbale gave Geary a bland look. “I thought you should know.”

“Thank you. I think you should know that a lot of things may be coming to a head soon.”

“In a good way?”

“Maybe.” Geary paused and faced Timbale, speaking in formal tones. “If we don’t meet in person again, I want you to know it has been an honor and a pleasure serving with you.”

Timbale replied with equal formality. “The honor and the pleasure have been mine. Good luck, Admiral. Does this mean it’s on?”

“It soon will be.”

Tanya was waiting in Dauntless’s shuttle dock when he got off the shuttle. “I hope your visit to Ambaru was worth the risk,” she said.

“Yes, it was. And in any case, I can’t live aboard Dauntless,” he told her.

“Why not?”

Instead of replying to that, he held up the data coin that Unruh had given him. “We have orders, from the government, and we have the means to get to Unity Alternate.”

“Orders?” Desjani asked, instantly suspicious at mention of the government. “Orders to do what?”

“To take Unity Alternate.”

“The government has ordered us to take the government’s secret, fallback capital?”

“It’s a long story,” Geary said. “But, basically, just like the Alliance military adopted some practices in the name of winning the war that weren’t really consistent with winning or with what the Alliance was supposed to be about, so did the government.”

“So we’re saving the Alliance?” Desjani asked.

He gave her a flat look, knowing that she was referring to the legend that Black Jack would return to “save the Alliance.” “Yes.”

“Good. I just wanted to be clear on that. When do we roll?”

“I need to check the status of our repair work and resupply,” Geary said, “but the same concerns apply as before. We need to give the dark ships enough time to resupply and leave their base again. Another week, at least, I think.”

She gave him a cautionary look. “They’ll come after you again. If we wait too long, they may show up here.”

That was an ugly thought. “You’re right. Let’s find out if we can get moving within a week.”

Once at his stateroom, Geary called Captain Smythe. “One week. I want everything out of dock and ready to go.”

“Admiral, I want… never mind. I can make it happen, but not everything is going to be done. You’re still facing the possibility of system failures on your ships, just like that main propulsion unit that failed on Fearless at Bhavan.”

“I understand. Make it happen.”

“Aye, aye, sir. As far as funding goes…”

“I have it on very good authority that the funding we need will materialize soon,” Geary said. “Through official channels.”

Smythe looked impressed. “How did you manage that?”

“I asked nicely.”

Despite Senator Unruh’s warning that the dark ships might still be getting information about what Geary was doing, there was no way to hide the preparations necessary for an offensive using the entire force remaining to First Fleet. But he still took some extra efforts to conceal one aspect of that offensive, personally summoning two officers to his stateroom on Dauntless rather than risking using a comm channel that could be tapped into.

In person, Marine Colonel Rico wore the same serious expression as his official portrait. The commanding officer of the Third Brigade stood at attention, giving the impression that he never really relaxed. It wasn’t a nervous sort of tension but rather the kind of alertness that assumed every moment required full attention lest something important be missed. In someone who lacked confidence in themselves and others, that would have produced a twitchy, perpetually fearful boss who made life hell for everyone under them. But Rico conveyed a sense of assurance that made his constant watchfulness reassuring rather than worrying.

Beside him stood Commander Young, captain of the assault transport Mistral. Much more casual in her bearing than Rico, she gave the impression of having dealt with Marines often enough to regard them with weary exasperation.

Like many of Geary’s officers, they seemed far too young for their ranks. A century ago, he had been accustomed to a peacetime military, with promotions coming fairly slowly and requiring years of time in each rank. But the long and recently ended war had enforced its own requirements, the deaths of more senior officers often requiring rapid promotions of junior officers to fill in the gaps.

Geary waved Rico and Young to take seats. “We’re facing a difficult problem.”

“What do you need the Marines to do, Admiral?” Rico asked, sitting with the same straight posture he used when standing.

“Where do you need us to take the Marines so they can do something?” Commander Young asked, drawing a sidelong, amused look from Rico.

Geary sat down opposite the two officers. “You’ve both just done the first thing I need by showing me you’ve got the right attitudes for the job. What have you heard about the dark ships?”

“Everything that’s been put out by you, sir, but nothing based on experience. We weren’t along during the fights at Atalia and Bhavan, and we only saw one side of the battle here at Varandal.” Rico nodded outward. “And we’ve heard the rumors that are going around.”

“Which aren’t good,” Young added. “I’ve talked to some friends on other ships who have engaged the dark ships, Admiral. Everybody says they’re tough.”

“They are,” Geary said. “We’ve found the dark ships’ base, though, and we know how to get to it.”

Young fixed her eyes on Geary. “And that’s why you need an assault transport.” She made the words a statement, not a question.

“There will likely be a big orbiting facility at the star the dark ships are operating from. It will be designed for command and control, housing large numbers of people, and supporting a wide variety of functions.”

“Facility assault,” Rico said, nodding. “Third Brigade can do that. There’s just the one facility?”

“There are likely to be a lot of other orbiting structures, but they will be support facilities for the dark ships. Docks and warehouses, primarily. It’s possible that anyone still on those facilities are trapped there. It might be a hostage rescue or evacuation under fire situation. It will also be an intelligence collection mission, acquiring any and all information available in the storage systems at the facilities. General Carabali told me Third Brigade is the best, no matter what we encounter.”

Rico nodded again. “What intel are we looking for, sir?”

“Everything and anything. This isn’t for me. The government constructed those facilities, lost control of them, and wants to know what has been going on there.”

“Yes, sir.” The Marine did not seem the least bit surprised that the government would not know what was going on at a government facility.

“How many evacuees, Admiral?” Young asked. “If Mistral is loaded with assault troops, she won’t have much room for new riders.”

“I don’t know,” Geary said. “I’d like to have an empty assault transport along with us as well. But at the moment, Mistral is all I have.”

Commander Young sat silently for a few moments, her eyes gazing intently into space. “It depends on the numbers, sir. There are ways to pack in a lot more bodies and give life support a temporary boost to handle the load. No one will be happy, but we can double up as long as it doesn’t last too long. However, the only way to be sure we can carry a lot of people out is to leave some space aboard.”

“Which would mean limiting how many Marines were aboard,” Colonel Rico objected.

“I’ve only got so much room on the bus,” Young said. “Even if we go standing room only, I can’t just keep packing people in without overloading life support and the air inside the ship going toxic. I assume you grunts want to keep breathing?”

“We’re sort of fond of breathing,” Rico agreed.

“I understand that we want all of the Marines we can bring,” Geary said. “But we’ll only bring two of your battalions, Colonel. The rest of the space on Mistral will be left free for emergency evacuees. There’s a chance the number of evacuees could still exceed Mistral’s maximum capacity, in which case we’ll transfer people onward to some of the larger warships.”

“Under fire?” Young asked.

“Possibly under fire,” Geary confirmed. “I know that’s far from ideal circumstances.”

“I have shuttle pilots who will volunteer to carry out the transfers under fire,” Rico said.

Commander Young snorted. “Funny how Marines never have trouble finding volunteers.”

“Marine sergeants are very persuasive,” Rico said. “Admiral, I would really like to have a better idea of what we’ll be facing in the way of a threat. I know what the dark ships can throw at us, but what kind of infantry threat will there be?”

“I don’t think we’ll face soldiers,” Geary said. “What little we know indicates no military presence. Maybe paramilitary or heavily armed security forces.”

“Heavily armed security forces? Do you mean like police action teams, or something like Syndic Vipers?” Rico asked, citing the fanatical special forces that worked for the Syndicate Worlds’ Internal Security Service.

“I don’t know,” Geary said. “Does the Alliance have anything like Vipers?”

“There are rumors, sir, but I don’t know of anyone who has ever seen anything like that.”

“Good. I don’t think something like that could have been kept completely secret. If no one has ever seen it, it probably doesn’t exist.” Geary realized that was a pretty weak argument during a discussion about attacking Unity Alternate but decided not to address that point. “Here’s the other hard part. Whoever we encounter may believe that they are defending the interests of the Alliance.”

Young and Rico both stared at Geary. Rico recovered first. “We might have to fight Alliance forces?”

“That’s very unlikely,” Geary said. “As we saw at Ambaru, even when given misleading data, Alliance ground forces soldiers did not want to engage Alliance Marines, and the information I have is that no regular military forces should be at the dark ship base. But a paramilitary force might be there and might have orders to resist us. If we encounter that situation, Colonel Rico, I need to know that you can defuse it if possible but take out anyone who actively tries to prevent you from carrying out your mission.”

He looked over at Commander Young. “And if any of the dark ships are present when we hit their base and realize what you intend, they will try to take you out. It’s going to be hazardous as hell. If the dark ships decide to make a priority target of you, it is possible that I will have a very hard time keeping them off you. You have the right to know that.”

Young grinned. “We’re used to that, Admiral. Haven’t you heard the joke that AT doesn’t stand for Assault Transport, but rather Active Target?”

“Sir,” Colonel Rico said, “we’ll get the job done. This is about defending the Alliance, right?”

“I promise you that it is,” Geary said. “I have orders from the highest levels for this operation.”

“Then we’ll get the job done as long as the bus gets us there.”

Commander Young gave him an arch look. “The bus will get your freeloaders there. After that, it will be up to you Marines to pay for the ride.”

“We’ll earn our fare,” Rico said. “We got this, Admiral.”

“Excellent,” Geary said. “We have some emergency repairs that have to be completed on some of the warships, so the departure date for the assault will be about a week from now. Have your ship and your Marines ready.”

“We could go within twenty-four hours, sir,” Commander Young said. “As long as the Marines are ready to load. We’re already preloaded with most of their equipment.”

“Twenty-four hours,” Rico agreed.

After they had left, Geary checked the latest updates on maintenance and supply. Formidable was the last battle cruiser still in dock and would be getting pushed out on an emergency basis the next day. Fearless would have all of her main propulsion systems in working order within thirty-six hours, under threat of being left behind when the fleet moved. The shameful possibility of being the only battleship to miss the upcoming fight had driven the crew of Fearless and the maintenance personnel working with them to superhuman efforts to ensure the job was done.

Admiral Timbale was emptying the supply centers at Varandal of every fuel cell available. It wouldn’t be enough on such short notice to top off all of the warships, but only the battleships and battle cruisers would be at less than one hundred percent starting out. There were also frustrating shortages of specter missiles, and even a baffling shortfall in grapeshot. “They’re just ball bearings!” Geary had protested. “Round pieces of metal! How hard can it be to make more of them?” But other priorities had interfered, so some of the warships would be heading out with less than full shot lockers.

The good news in terms of food supplies was that there had been plenty of ration bars available to be loaded onto the ships to provide meals during battle situations. The bad news was that nearly every crate was made up of the infamous Danaka Yoruk bars, which had apparently been stockpiled to feed to Syndic prisoners of war who had then unexpectedly been released into the custody of representatives of the Midway Star System. Geary took under serious consideration Desjani’s suggestion that they use the Danaka Yoruk bars as substitutes for the inadequate supply of metal grapeshot.

Exhausted by going over the status reports, expediting what needed to be expedited, delaying what could be delayed, making sure the right people were in the right positions, planning for what would be done at Unity Alternate, and coordinating actions, Geary finally managed to sleep.

“Admiral!”

Geary bolted awake, shocked by the urgency in the summons. He sat up in his bunk, slapping the nearest comm panel. “Here. What’s happened?”

“They—They’re back, sir!”