Valiant

FIVE

Geary sighed as the tensions of worrying about the upcoming battle were replaced by the pains of dealing with the aftermath of that engagement. He felt incredibly weary, as though he had been on the bridge of Dauntless for most of a week instead of most of a day.

“The Syndic guard force is still about thirty light-minutes from the hypernet gate,” Desjani reported, her own voice tired. “If they keep up their speed, they’ll reach it in about four and a half hours.”

“Fine.” Geary rubbed his eyes, then looked back at his display. That Syndic guard force was now almost two light-hours away from the Alliance fleet. If it had been a lot, lot closer, he might have had to worry about a suicide charge against Dauntless or the auxiliaries, but at this distance the Syndics would take almost a day to get here after they started such a charge. “I guess we can decide what to do about them later.”

There didn’t seem to be much to worry about for the moment. The guard force was clearly going to stick close to the hypernet gate, just as it had last time the Alliance fleet was here, and that gate lay about two and a half light-hours off to port of the Alliance fleet. The habitable world that Lakota boasted was orbiting on the opposite side of its star from the Alliance fleet, almost two and a quarter light-hours to starboard. The Syndic military assets there wouldn’t be any threat unless the Alliance fleet came close to that world, and Geary had no intention of doing that.

Otherwise, the Syndic presence here seemed rapidly to be going to ground as the light from the latest engagement reached different parts of Lakota Star System. Merchant ships were fleeing for whatever sanctuary they could find, and colonies and mining operations on outer planets were shutting down equipment as they sent their populace to whatever shelters existed. Accustomed to having Alliance forces bombard Syndic worlds, the people in the system expected the worst from the victorious fleet. It wasn’t going to happen, but Geary didn’t feel like explaining that to them at the moment.

All around Dauntless, the now-widely dispersed ships of the Alliance fleet were making emergency battle repairs and running down Syndic warships knocked out but not destroyed in the battle, to ensure that their power cores were overloaded. Nothing was to be left for the Syndics to salvage. Shuttles flew between Alliance ships, carrying critically needed replacement parts for those warships requiring them. Destroyers and light cruisers darted around, finding and picking up every Alliance escape pod ejected by ships lost during the battle. Geary had already heard of one such pod, containing sailors who had abandoned the battleship Indefatigable during the first engagement in Lakota Star System weeks ago, been captured by the Syndics and taken to the wreck of Audacious, been liberated by Alliance Marines earlier today and taken to the heavy cruiser Fascine, then had to abandon Fascine when the heavy cruiser was shot up, and finally been rescued again by the light cruiser Tsuba. He wondered if those sailors regarded themselves as lucky or unlucky, and whether or not they were worried by the fact that they’d kept ending up on progressively smaller warships.

Rione stood up with her own heavy sigh. “I need to check on a few things. Let me know if you need me,” she told Geary.

Needing her could mean a number of different things. The ambiguity of the phrase made him wonder if Rione had decided it was time for them to share a physical relationship again. Then Geary spotted Desjani’s teeth clenching for a moment, her eyes rigidly fixed on her display before she relaxed herself. Apparently Desjani had interpreted the phrase the same way and hadn’t liked it. He hadn’t noticed that kind of reaction from her before and wondered if Desjani was more worried about Rione’s influence on him than he had realized.

He could scarcely discuss that now, though, so Geary turned toward Rione and shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Get some rest.”

“That’s not too likely, but I’ll try.”

Desjani visibly relaxed after Rione had left. “You should get some rest, too, sir.”

“There’s a lot of after-battle mess to clean up,” Geary replied.

“We can handle that. You’ve already ordered our ships to return to their places in Fleet Formation Delta Two once they finish their postbattle operations. They can do that without you watching them. Even Orion and Conqueror can carry out tasks reliably if they’re not being shot at.”

“Yeah, I guess they can.” Geary stood, surprised by how unsteady on his feet he felt. “Are you going to get any rest?”

Desjani shrugged apologetically. “I’m the captain of Dauntless, sir.”

“And captains of warships never get to rest.” He hesitated, then asked the question he had wanted to avoid. “How many did Dauntless lose?”

She took a deep breath, then answered in a steady voice. “Twelve. We were lucky. Another nineteen wounded, two critically.”

“I’m sorry.” Geary rubbed his forehead, meaningless phrases about honoring their sacrifices rolling through his brain. Twelve more sailors who would never again see Alliance space, never again see their homes, families, and loved ones. Twelve more just on this lightly damaged ship. Multiply that across the fleet, and the great victory suddenly felt even less worthy of celebration.

Maybe Desjani felt the same. As if reading his mind, she shook her head. “I guess we’re all a little shell-shocked, sir. Tomorrow I’ll be able to appreciate what we did here. Right now I’m just trying to keep going.”

“You and me both.” He frowned down at the deck. “What was I doing?”

“Rest, sir,” Desjani prodded.

“If you can remember that, you’re in better shape than I am. I’ll be back up here in a little while.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call me in an hour or so.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I mean it, Captain Desjani.”

“Yes, sir.”

He left the bridge, somehow certain that Desjani had decided that she wouldn’t actually call him unless another emergency erupted but too tired to debate the issue any longer.

His stateroom comm alert buzzed angrily, jerking Geary awake. He’d fallen asleep in a chair and took a moment to orient himself before acknowledging the call.

“Captain Geary,” Desjani reported, “there’s a problem at the Syndic hypernet gate.”

His stomach turned to lead. “Reinforcements for the Syndics? ” His fleet wasn’t in any shape to fight another major engagement. The aliens on the other side of Syndic space had diverted a big Syndic force to Lakota the last time the Alliance fleet was in the star system, baffling the Syndics but giving them an opportunity to destroy the Alliance fleet. They’d come far too close to succeeding. Somehow the aliens had known the Alliance fleet would be at Lakota the first time, but his immediate jump back should have thrown off even whatever means of tracking the aliens were using.

“No, sir.” Geary’s initial relief at Desjani’s words vanished as she continued speaking. “The Syndic guard force is destroying the gate.”

Geary took the distance to the bridge in record time, coming to a halt beside his command seat and staring at the images on his display. It took him a moment to accept what he was seeing. As Desjani had reported, the Syndic guard force at the hypernet gate had opened fire on the gate. “They’re taking down the gate. While we’re still light-hours away.” His disbelief must have been obvious.

Desjani was checking her own display and made a gesture of contempt. “The Syndic commanding that guard force has panicked. He or she has orders to ensure you don’t use that gate, so they’re acting long before they have to act.”

“But this fleet is so far away, we’re much less likely to be damaged by the resulting energy discharge!” Geary stared at the representations of the Syndic guard force. “And his or her own ships are right there. Why commit probable suicide if you don’t have to?”

Rione answered, her voice sharp. He hadn’t noticed her coming onto the bridge, but she must have been right behind him. “Obviously because the Syndic commander doesn’t know what’s going to happen when that hypernet gate collapses. The commander wasn’t informed, either because of a misplaced emphasis on secrecy or because no one thought to do so in the wake of this fleet’s apparent defeat in this same star system almost two weeks ago.”

Desjani spoke as if to herself. “Or because the Syndic Executive Council didn’t want their on-scene commander knowing what would happen and deliberately kept that commander in the dark to ensure their orders would be followed.”

Geary had a sick feeling that Desjani’s guess was the right one. The Syndic leadership would have wanted to ensure that the Alliance fleet couldn’t use the hypernet gate, and would have decided to withhold any information that might have caused their own commander to hesitate in carrying out orders to destroy it.

“Therefore,” Rione continued as if Desjani hadn’t spoken, “that commander is playing it safe, terrified that this fleet will once again do something that is supposed to be impossible, not realizing that playing it safe is actually dooming them.”

Geary turned on her. “The Syndics are playing it safe because they think this fleet can do the impossible?” he demanded.

She met his gaze coolly. “Don’t blame me. You’re the one who keeps achieving the impossible.”

Arguing with Rione would obviously be as futile as usual. He took a moment to think, then called Furious. “Captain Cresida, can you give me an estimate of how long it would take the Syndic guard force to cause that hypernet gate to collapse?”

Several seconds later, Cresida’s image appeared and nodded. “Just a moment, sir.” She looked to one side, her eyes examining something, then back at Geary. “Assuming they continue firing and destroying gate tethers at their current observed rate, my calculations indicate that it would take between twenty and thirty minutes more for the gate to begin uncontrollable collapse. I’m sorry I can’t be more precise, but it’s mostly theory since we just don’t have enough actual gate-collapse data to reference.”

Twenty or thirty minutes. And the gate was two and a half light-hours away. “So it probably collapsed a little over two hours ago.”

A few more seconds, then Cresida nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“Is there any way to estimate the level of the energy discharge before it gets to us?”

“The energy pulse is going to propagate outward at the speed of light, Captain Geary.” Cresida shook her head. “We’ll find out when it hits us. Which could happen in about twenty minutes.”

There was very little time left to react. Geary spun to Desjani. “Get me a course directly away from the hypernet gate’s location.” While she was coming up with that, he studied his display, looking at the disposition of his ships and realizing he had no time to rearrange them.

“Port one four zero degrees, down one two degrees,” Desjani announced.

Geary slapped the fleetwide command circuit. “All units in the Alliance fleet. Immediate course change. All ships come port one four zero degrees, down one two degrees, and accelerate to point one light. I say again, immediate execute turn port one four zero degrees, down one two degrees, and accelerate to point one light. The Syndic guard force has caused the hypernet gate in this system to collapse, generating an energy discharge of unknown scale. The energy discharge is theoretically capable of a nova-scale level. In one five minutes all ships are to cease acceleration, pivot to place themselves bow-on to the Syndic hypernet gate’s location, reinforce bow shields to the maximum strength possible, and set maximum preparation levels for damage control and repair.”

He slumped backward as Desjani rapped out orders and Dauntless swung onto the new course, her propulsion units kicking in hard enough once again to make the inertial dampers whine in protest. “Captain Desjani,” Geary asked, “can this ship survive a nova-scale burst of energy at this distance from the source?” He was pretty sure he already knew the answer and pretty sure it wasn’t a happy one, but he wanted to be certain.

“I seriously doubt it.” Desjani frowned, then glanced around the bridge, focusing on one watch-stander. “Assessment? ” she demanded.

The watch-stander tapped a data pad frantically, then shook his head. “No, ma’am. As the burst expands away from the source, its single-point intensity is going to be dropping rapidly, but not nearly fast enough. A battle cruiser’s shields and armor, even at full strength, couldn’t withstand it even with maximum preparations. Destroyers, cruisers, they’d be totally overwhelmed. Battleships might have a chance at this distance. Not a big one, but some might make it through, though they’d be completely crippled.” He paused and tapped a couple of more times. “The battleships’ crews would all be killed by the radiation, though, after it collapsed their shields, so I guess it wouldn’t matter.”

Desjani blew out a long breath, then looked to Geary. “We’d better hope it’s not nova-scale.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he agreed.

Desjani seemed to hesitate, then turned back to the same watch-stander. “What about the inhabited world in this star system?”

Geary stared at her. In his concern for the fleet, he hadn’t yet considered what would happen to that world. Yet Desjani had, or at least had realized that he would care.

The watch-stander rubbed his brow with one hand and tapped his data pad again. “There’s a lot of uncertainties. If the energy wave is nova-scale or anywhere near that, the planet will be turned into a cinder. If it’s something a great deal lower than that, the side facing the hypernet gate’s former location when the shock wave hits will be fried, but the sheltered side might be able to ride it out though they’ll face horrific storms. Whether the planet will be habitable after that is hard to say.”

“What about the star itself?” Geary asked. “What’ll be the effect on Lakota?”

“That’s impossible to determine without knowing how much energy will hit it, sir.” The watch-stander shook his head. “If it’s nova-scale, the star will be really messed up, but then no one will be left around here to care. Anything less than that, it’s just too hard to estimate. Stars have incredibly complex internal reactions going on constantly. They’re remarkably self-regulating, but even the most stable star has some variability in output. If I had to guess, I’d say that if this energy burst we’re expecting is at all significant, it will cause enough problems inside the star Lakota’s photosphere to make it experience more variability at shorter intervals.”

“So even if the habitable world remains able to support life, the star Lakota may render it uninhabitable in the near future.”

“Yes, sir. I can’t say that will happen, but I’d regard it as a probable outcome.”

Desjani frowned and checked her display. “That world is almost five light-hours from the hypernet gate and two and a quarter light-hours from this fleet. If we sent a warning message, they would get it in time to at least order people into shelter, though that’s unlikely to matter to those on the side of the planet that gets hit.”

The woman warrior who had once expressed regret that null-field weapons couldn’t be used against enemy planets was now willing to warn enemy civilians. “Thank you for thinking of that,” Geary told her.

“We need survivors, sir. People who can tell other Syndics that the Alliance fleet didn’t do this.”

Desjani was just being pragmatic, then. Or justifying her actions on pragmatic grounds. He wondered which it was. Geary’s eyes strayed back to the display of Lakota Star System. He looked at the data for the main inhabited world, at the representations of colonies on other worlds or moons, at the orbital facilities and the civilian space traffic that hadn’t yet reached a place where the crews could take refuge if the Alliance fleet sent warships after them. And at the clusters of small symbols that marked escape pods from Syndic warships and repair ships fleeing for safety. Hundreds, probably thousands of Syndic personnel in those escape pods, but Geary didn’t want an estimate of their numbers. They wouldn’t stand a chance if the energy discharge from the collapsing gate had any power at all, and there was nothing he could do about it. “I need a broadcast to the entire star system.”

How do you tell so many people that death may already be on its way? Geary tried to speak calmly, but knew his voice sounded bleak. “People of Lakota Star System, the Syndicate Worlds’ warships at your hypernet gate have opened fire on it to prevent its use by the Alliance fleet. By the time you receive this message, the hypernet gate will certainly have collapsed. When it does so, a burst of energy will be released, a burst which could be powerful enough to wipe out all life in this star system. If we’re fortunate, the energy burst will be much weaker than that, but it could easily be extremely dangerous to all human lives, ships, and installations in this star system. I urge you to take all possible measures in the very short time available to protect yourselves.”

Geary paused, then spoke slowly. “I don’t know how many of the humans in this star system will survive this. May the living stars watch over all here, and may their ancestors welcome all who die this day. To the honor of our ancestors, this is Captain John Geary, commander of the Alliance fleet.”

The silence afterward was broken by Victoria Rione. “They were already anticipating bombardment by us and taking shelter. Maybe that will help.”

“Maybe. It’s not going to help all of those Syndics in escape pods.” It only took the briefest look at the display to confirm that the Syndic escape pods were all too far distant for any Alliance ships to reach in time. “Unless the energy discharge is almost nothing, they won’t stand a chance.”

“Thank the living stars we already got all of ours recovered,” Desjani murmured.

“Two minutes to turn, Captain,” the maneuvering watch advised.

The initial moves to speed away from the Syndic hypernet gate’s location had taken place ship by ship as Geary’s order reached them, the farthest ships turning last. But the next maneuver was based on the time Geary had sent the first order, and so exactly fifteen minutes after Geary’s message, the Alliance fleet turned as one, ship after ship swinging its bows to face the place where the Syndic hypernet gate still appeared intact but wavering as its tethers were blown away by the Syndic guard force. But the light showing that was over two and a half hours old, an image from the past. For well over two hours that gate had been gone, replaced by a discharge of energy of unknown intensity. The Alliance ships were facing the source of the energy burst with their heaviest shields and armor, and still heading away from it stern-first at close to point one light speed, which would reduce the force of the impact. “Forward shields at maximum strength,” the combat-systems watch reported to Captain Desjani. “All compartments sealed, crew braced for damage, repair capabilities at highest readiness levels.”

“Very well.” Desjani bent her head for a moment, her eyes closed, her lips moving silently.

A prayer right now was a good idea, Geary reflected. He also took a moment to say a few words noiselessly, pleading with the living stars to preserve this fleet and its crews, and with his ancestors for whatever aid they could provide.

“Standing by for earliest assessed possible impact time,” another watch-stander announced. “Three … two … one … mark.”

The moment passed without any change, the image of the distant hypernet gate still there, still fluctuating as the tethers holding the energy matrix in place were destroyed one by one. It had been absurd to think that Cresida’s earliest estimate would be accurate to the second, but it was human nature to lock on to that time as critical.

Another minute went by, everyone on the bridge of Dauntless staring at their displays as if they would somehow provide advance warning, when in fact the wave front would hit at the speed of light, providing no notice before it struck.

Geary stared at the distant image of the hypernet gate, the fluctuations in energy levels inside it obvious to the fleet’s sensors even from this far away. He would never forget how it had felt close to a collapsing gate, as Dauntless, Daring, and Diamond had fought to keep the gate at Sancere from frying the star system it had served. Space itself had been warping inside the gate as the forces within it were unleashed, causing effects echoed within nearby human bodies even through the shields and armor of the warships. Only Captain Cresida’s theoretical firing plan for causing the gate to collapse in a way that minimized the resultant energy discharge had saved the three Alliance warships and who knew how many other ships and inhabitants in the Sancere Star System.

He wondered how the crews of those Syndic ships destroying the gate in this star system had felt, whether they’d experienced those forces and questioned their orders, whether they’d had time to realize that their obedience to commands was dooming not only them but also a great many other inhabitants of Lakota. He’d never know. Unaware of what they were unleashing, those ships had almost certainly been destroyed more than two hours ago, their crews forever silenced.

One more minute. Two more. Geary heard others muttering to themselves, the words inaudible but the tones clearly pleading. The words of the prayers change, but they always mean the same thing. Have mercy please, because there’s nothing else that human skill or device can do now.

The shock wave slammed into Dauntless. Geary fought down a surge of fear as the ship jerked and lights dimmed, his mind knowing that if the energy burst had been great enough to destroy Dauntless, then the battle cruiser would have been shattered before he had time to be afraid.

“Forward shields down thirty percent, no hull damage, minor energy leak-through affecting ship systems.” The reports rolled in while Geary waited for the display to clear and reveal the state of his fleet, whether his lighter ships had been able to survive the blow.

“Preliminary estimate places the energy output at the source at point one three on the Yama-Potillion Nova Scale.”

“Point one three,” Desjani murmured, then she ducked her head again and her lips moved without a sound for a moment.

Geary did the same, breathing his own quick thanks that the energy output had been so much lower than it could have been.

The display cleared, symbols updating rapidly. Geary ran his eyes across his ship-status reports, searching for red-lined systems. The hardest hit had been the destroyers since their shields were weakest, but none seemed to have suffered major damage. A lot of subsystems blown and a few cases of hull damage, but otherwise even the fleet’s smallest ships had come through intact.

Where the image of the Syndic hypernet gate and the nearby Syndic warships had been, there was now nothing. It took the fleet’s sensors a few moments to find what was left of the Syndic guard force. Whatever remained of the smaller warships was in pieces too small for the system to find immediately. Large pieces of debris tumbling away from the former site of the hypernet gate were assessed as the remains of the two Syndic battle cruisers. One of the two battleships had also been shattered into several large fragments, while the other had broken into two segments that seemed very badly torn up. As Geary watched, one of the big segments blew up. Or rather, he finally saw the light from two and a half hours ago showing the segment explode back then. “They never knew what hit them. That close to the energy discharge, even reinforced shields wouldn’t have been enough.”

Desjani nodded. “That’s what would’ve happened to us at Sancere if Captain Cresida’s calculations hadn’t worked, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I owe that woman a drink when we get home.”

Geary couldn’t help a short laugh born of relief. “I think we owe her more than that. A bottle of the finest booze we can find. I’ll go halves with you on it.”

Desjani’s mouth widened in a brief, tight smile. “Deal.” The smile vanished. “Where now?”

“Let’s head toward the jump point for Branwyn. What should our course be if we hold this speed?” He could have worked it out himself easily but didn’t trust his thinking at the moment.

Desjani glanced toward her maneuvering watch, who hastily worked out the solution.

Geary paused a moment longer to ensure that his voice would be steady, then punched his command circuit again. “All units in the Alliance fleet, return to positions in Fleet Formation Delta Two. At time three five all units turn together starboard one zero six degrees, up zero four degrees.”

Now that they were behind the shock wave, they could watch it sweep over those parts of the star system that hadn’t yet been hit. It was like watching a terrible before-and-after presentation. Ahead of the shock wave, before it struck each region, Lakota brimmed with life and activity. As the shock wave expanded across the star system and swept over human habitations and ships, it left behind a field of broken debris and death.

The Syndic escape pods had been simply annihilated by the shock wave, wiped out like a swarm of gnats in the path of a heavy, fast-moving vehicle, the sailors inside them dying instantly. A couple of freighters, too far from anywhere to reach safety, had been torn apart. One colony on the moon of a gas giant had been sheltered by the gas giant itself, though the giant had shed a fair amount of upper atmosphere as the shock wave passed by. That colony was an exception though. Two other colonies, on the fifth planet, were badly damaged, and a third on another moon was possibly wiped out.

Hardest to watch had been the impact of the energy discharge on the habitable world. On the side of the planet facing the shock wave when it hit, huge amounts of atmosphere had been scattered and blown off, the surfaces of oceans, seas, rivers, and lakes flashing to vapor. Forests and fields burst into momentary flame, the heat so intense that they were almost instantly reduced to charred remnants. Cities became melted, flattened fields of wreckage. Towns were so badly crushed by the wave of energy that many to all intents and purposes vanished.

Half a world died in the space of seconds.

“It’s possible that people in deep enough shelter on the exposed side might have survived the shock wave’s hitting,” a watch-stander reported.

“What about the aftermath?” Rione demanded.

The watch-stander grimaced. “A lot of them will be trapped. Food supplies are gone, the atmosphere appreciably thinned worldwide, all that water vapor and ash blown into the air. There are going to be some horrendous storms. I don’t know, Madam Co-President. The people on the sheltered side might stand a chance even though life will get awfully rough. The ones who got hit … Well, I wouldn’t want to have been there when it hit, and I wouldn’t want to be there trying to survive.”

Geary nodded. “And that was only a point one three nova-scale output of energy. Way toward the low end of the possible output.”

Desjani had her eyes on the display, her face rigid, but she said nothing as she gazed at the image of a ruined world.

“Seeing this,” Rione observed in a quiet voice, “it’s hard to see them as enemies. They just look like people who need help.”

Geary nodded again, silently.

“Can we render any assistance?” Rione asked.

This time he shook his head. “Unfortunately, I have experience with this. When I was a junior officer, the star in the Cirinci system spat out a big flare that fried most of the facing parts of the primary inhabited planet in that star system.” No one on Dauntless’s bridge seemed to recognize the event, a more-than-a-century-old tragedy lost to popularly remembered history in the wake of the many disasters that had followed as war raged for decade after decade.

Fighting off the old feeling of being lost among strangers, his own life vanished in time, Geary used one hand to indicate the display. “Cirinci wasn’t this bad, from what I can see, but we had to run out the disaster-relief requirements to see what the fleet could do, and the answer kept coming up not very damn much. The Alliance government had to requisition lots of civilian freighters to carry the relief-and-rebuilding supplies, and even then it all took too long. I think the only military assets that ended up being used were some of the big troop transports to bring in relief workers and haul out evacuees. Even if this fleet was fully stocked, and it’s far from that, everything we could do would be a drop in the bucket compared to what the surviving people in this star system need. And we couldn’t expect much in the way of gratitude from the Syndic leaders. They’d still do their level best to destroy us if we lingered here.”

Rione sighed. “There’s nothing that can be done?”

“We’ll tell every Syndic system we pass through that they need help here.” Geary pointed to his display. “Some Syndic merchant ships survived the shock wave. They sheltered behind available worlds, either by luck or because they got our warning in time. Those ships can go for help.”

“Yes. They’ll tell everyone what happened here.” Rione’s eyes met his, and Geary nodded once more.

It was no longer a matter of trying to keep secret the destructive potential of collapsing hypernet gates, but rather a matter of dealing with the results of the knowledge of that spreading as fast as humans could pass on reports of disaster.

Desjani finally spoke again. “The Syndic leaders.” She turned a hard gaze on Geary. “After Sancere, some of them surely suspected what destroying this gate could do to this star system. But they ordered it here anyway, and apparently told no one what to expect. If the energy burst had been strong enough, everyone in this star system would have died and no one could have reported what really happened.” Her eyes returned to the display of the devastated world. “This isn’t war. It’s an atrocity, committed on these people by their own leaders in an attempt to destroy this fleet.”

There wasn’t much he could say to that except to nod once more in silent agreement.

Desjani spoke again, her tone abrupt. “There could be Alliance prisoners of war on that world. Some of them could’ve been brought there after our battles here nearly two weeks ago.”

Geary’s eyes went back to the image of the ruined world. He forced out an answer. “If they were on the side of the planet that got hit, they’re beyond finding and beyond help.”

“What if they’re on the other side?” Desjani swung on her watch-standers, barking out orders. “I want a fine-grain analysis of that world prior to the shock wave hitting for any signs of a prisoner-of-war encampment or indications of Alliance personnel being held anywhere. Optics, communications, everything!”

“Captain, analysis of the planet prior to the shock wave’s hitting it didn’t reveal any such indications—”

“Do it again! If there’s an Alliance flea alive on that world, I want to know it!”

Desjani’s voice echoed on the suddenly silent bridge, then her watch-standers hastily acknowledged the orders and jumped to their tasks. As Desjani slumped in her captain’s chair, glaring at her display, Rione eyed her somberly, then left the bridge without another word. Geary hesitated, reading Desjani’s mood of frustration and outrage at what had happened in this star system, then left silently as well. Sometimes even the closest friends needed distance.

Geary wandered through the passageways of Dauntless for a while, feeling depressed and restless. He’d just been coming out of his postvictory low caused by the inevitable cost of any victory when the sight of the destruction wreaked by the hypernet gate’s collapse had made him dejected again.

The crew members he met were subdued as well, but also giddy with the relief of survival and victory. In days to come, the extent of the victory would sink in and elation would follow, but for now everyone was mostly just glad to be alive and still have a chance of getting home. They seemed to regard Geary with even more awe than he’d encountered on any previous occasion. Not able to stand much of that, Geary retreated to the only sure shelter available.

When he finally reached his stateroom, craving some time alone, Rione was already there and staring at the star display, her attitude distant. “My condolences on the losses to the fleet,” she stated in a low voice.

“Thanks.” Geary sat down, keeping his own eyes fixed on the display, not wanting to be around anyone else at the moment or to talk about his fleet’s latest losses. Not when memories of the destruction caused by the hypernet gate’s collapse were still fresh in his mind as well.

“As far as I can tell,” Rione continued, “Captain Faresa died on Majestic.”

“Nobody got off that ship,” Geary responded shortly.

“And Captain Kerestes died on Warrior along with Commander Suram.”

That stung. Kerestes had been aggressively passive, something Geary had once thought impossible, so afraid of making a mistake that he took every effort to avoid doing anything. By contrast, in his short time as captain of Warrior, Commander Suram had motivated her dispirited crew and fought well. “I intend doing everything I can to ensure that Commander Suram receives the credit he deserves as commanding officer of that ship. Captain Kerestes had no role in the matter.” Geary wondered briefly if Kerestes had even survived long enough to be among those trying to abandon ship. It was just as likely that he’d died in his stateroom as Syndic hell lances ravaged Warrior, a career dedicated to avoiding any action that might look bad ending at the hands of enemy warships that didn’t care whether or not Captain Kerestes had a service record unblemished by any obvious blunders.

“And Captain Falco?” Rione asked.

Geary almost winced, thinking of the insane Captain Falco, confined to his quarters as Warrior fought her final battle. He hadn’t yet discovered what Falco’s last moments had been like, or even if anyone knew. “I hated what that man did, but that’s no way for anyone to die.”

“Most likely he was safely wrapped in his delusions,” Rione suggested. “Believing he was commanding the battle, going down to heroic defeat, fighting to the last. Not realizing how little he really controlled his fate.”

Geary didn’t look at her. “Are you mocking him?”

“No. I sometimes wonder how different Falco’s delusions would be from what you and I are doing.” She paused. “Faresa, Kerestes, and Falco have died in battle. At least that spares you the worry of three court-martials if we make it back to Alliance space.”

His temper boiled over. “Dammit, Victoria, if you’re trying to find a silver lining in this, you’re not doing a very good job! I didn’t want two ships to die so those three could find some measure of justice! I don’t even know what the hell justice would be for Falco!”

She stayed silent for a moment after his outburst. “I know you looked at records from Falco’s past, before he was captured by the Syndics. You saw his speeches. Triumphantly celebrating so-called victories in which dozens of major Alliance warships were destroyed in exchange for at best equal numbers of Syndics. Do you think he would spend a single moment worrying about the loss of a few battleships?”

“That’s not the point,” Geary objected bitterly.

“No, of course not. You don’t judge yourself in relation to people like Falco.” Rione exhaled slowly. “As far as I can tell, all three of those officers did indeed die on their ships.”

The idea that they might not have hadn’t even occurred to Geary. “Is there some reason to think they didn’t?”

Her smile held no humor. “A suspicious mind. Had Captain Faresa had time, I think her sympathizers among the crew would’ve helped her get off Majestic. But no one had such an opportunity. Those seeking to use Falco might have tried to get him off of Warrior, but …” She paused. “A fool and insane, but his last act was to refuse the chance to be evacuated from Warrior. You hadn’t heard? A few witnesses survived. Falco declared it his duty to remain with Warrior, though it’s hard to say if he truly realized what was happening. I suppose we can be charitable to the dead and assume he did.”

Geary had no trouble believing it. He could see in his imagination Captain Falco moving dramatically through the shattered passageways of Warrior, Falco’s practiced expression of confident camaraderie being turned to the officers and sailors with him awaiting their doom. The perfect theatrical role, and if Falco had recovered any of his sanity long enough to realize the fate that awaited him in Alliance space, perhaps a welcome chance to find his end as a dead hero rather than in disgrace at a court-martial. But, knowingly or not, he had chosen to die well and given his space in an escape pod to someone else who had lived as a result. “No one living knows what his last thoughts were like, so I don’t see any reason not to grant him that.” Geary frowned slightly as a thought occurred to him. “Is that right? There’s no one alive who saw enough of him to tell?”

Rione frowned back. “How would I know?”

“You’ve obviously heard from eyewitnesses. You must have had some of your spies on those ships, too.”

Her expression twitched, then settled back in emotionless lines. “Had. Past tense. One got off Warrior. Nobody got off Majestic, as you already noted.”

Hell. “I should have realized that your spies on those ships died along with everyone else that didn’t get off. I’m sorry.”

She nodded once, still revealing no feelings. “They ran the same risks as everyone else in this fleet.”

Geary glared at her, his nerves stretched to their limit. “Sometimes you act like a cold-blooded bitch.”

Rione returned an impassive glance. “And you prefer your bitches warm-blooded?”

“Dammit, Victoria—”

She held up one hand. “We all deal with our pain in our own ways, John Geary. You and I handle that very differently.”

“Yeah, we do.” He looked down at the deck, knowing he was still frowning. Something else was bothering him, something he hadn’t connected yet. Something about the Alliance fleet’s losses. Majestic, Warrior, Utap, Vambrace … Vambrace?

He must have reacted as realization hit, because Rione spoke in a gentler tone. “What’s the matter now?”

“I just remembered something.” The heavy cruiser Vambrace, the ship to which Lieutenant Casell Riva had been transferred from Furious. A Syndic prisoner for almost ten years, liberated from a Syndic labor camp by this fleet and brought to Lakota, perhaps dead now. He tried to recall how many crew had gotten off Vambrace before she blew up. Had Riva been among them? Desjani hadn’t said anything, even though she’d surely realized much sooner than he had.

“Something?” Rione pressed.

“It’s a personal personnel issue.” He had to pronounce the words carefully so they made sense to her. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you.” Rione stayed quiet for so long that Geary looked up finally, seeing her watching him. “What?”

“Can you keep going?” she asked.

“Of course I can.”

“Of course?” Rione shook her head. “We took significant losses again, and I know the havoc created on the inhabited world in this star system by the destruction of the hypernet gate weighs heavily on you. For a long time after assuming command of this fleet, you were balanced on a knife-edge, ready to fall off if the pressure grew too great. You weren’t used to the sort of combat losses the Alliance has become accustomed to, so each ship lost weighed very heavily on you. You needed someone to prop you up, to keep you going, and for a while I filled that role, both as an ally to turn to and as an adversary to be bested. I don’t anymore.”

“Excuse me?” He studied her, trying to figure out what Rione was saying.

“Why are you fighting?” Rione asked, turning to face the star display again.

“For the people in this fleet. For the Alliance. You know that.”

“I know that those things are abstractions. You don’t know a fraction of the people in this fleet. The Alliance you knew is changed, your own home altered in ways I know have worried you.” Rione glanced his way again. “You’re not fighting for abstractions. No one does. Humans pay lip service to that, to big causes and great purposes, but any politician of any skill soon learns that what really motivates people is the small, personal things. Close friends, family, the small area they call home. They wrap those things around ideals and call them precious, but they’re precious for the smallest and closest of reasons. Soldiers may swear to fight for their flag, but they really fight because of the soldiers next to them. You’ve found something like that, John Geary. Here in this fleet, some personal connection that gives you the strength and resolve to continue.”

Geary eyed her. “And just what is that connection?”

“Not what. Who. Someone besides me.” Rione was back to studying the stars. “I know who. I don’t think you know yet. Or you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”

“Then tell me.”

“No. You’ll figure it out eventually. Then you’ll have to deal with it. For now, I and this fleet need you at your best, so I just accept what is.” She took a deep breath, then turned to face him. “Where are you taking the fleet next?”

The sudden shift in topic startled him, but Geary wasn’t interested in pursuing whatever Rione’s idea of his personal connection could be, so he just pointed to the display. “You heard. We’re heading for the jump point for Branwyn.”

She raised one eyebrow. “That didn’t mean you were going to use that jump point. Your old objective from the first time we were in this star system. As close to a straight shot for Alliance space as you can manage.”

“That’s right. The Syndics should have enough major combatants left to bring us battle, and we know they’re building replacements for their losses despite what we did to the shipyards at Sancere because they have a lot of other shipyards in other star systems. But after what we did here, they’ll have to gather those ships. We should be able to transit Branwyn without much trouble, then go from there to Wendig. Branwyn is supposed to have a minimal Syndic presence left, and the records we’ve captured from the Syndics say that Wendig was completely abandoned almost thirty years ago. From there we’ll have a couple of options, but I’m leaning toward Cavalos. There’s a strong Syndic presence there, so they’ll probably expect us to avoid it.”

Rione nodded slowly. “I see. Will the mines the Syndics laid across the jump point to Branwyn during our first time in this star system be an obstacle?

“No.” Geary pointed to the display. “They laid those mines so close to the jump point they couldn’t maintain a stable position. We knew that then, but also that it would take a few weeks for the mines to drift away from the jump point, so it didn’t do us any good at that time.” He paused and gave a pained smile. “Hell, I’m an idiot. That energy discharge will have fried all the mines at all of the jump points in this star system. It wouldn’t matter if they were still in position or not.”

“Sadly, you’re surely right. If only that had been all the shock wave destroyed. Do you believe we’ll face many mines in the systems where you want to go?”

“Probably not. According to our intelligence people, if our estimates of the Syndic mine inventories are anywhere near accurate, they used up everything in their attempt to trap us in or near Lakota. They’ll have to manufacture a lot more and get them to where they think we’ll be before they can try that again.”

“Good.” She turned a demanding look on Geary. “That takes care of the Syndic threat. What about the aliens?”

“I don’t know.” Geary scowled at the virtual stars. “The aliens have actively intervened against us, and somehow they’re tracking this fleet’s movements, but I’m out of ideas at the moment.”

“As am I. You need to make more people aware of them and see what ideas they can contribute.” She obviously saw Geary’s surprise at the suggestion. “There are officers you can trust in this fleet. We can’t try to solve a problem like this alone.”

“That makes sense. A few have already been made aware of it, but I haven’t really had any chance to talk it over with that group.”

Rione nodded, obviously unsurprised by the news. Geary shook his head as he considered the implications of the alien attempt to destroy his fleet. Whatever they were, they clearly had technology superior to humanity’s. “I’m not sure whether to be glad that we haven’t detected any more moves against us by them or worried that we haven’t spotted anything those aliens are up to.”

“I’d suggest worried,” Rione stated.

“I thought you might. Is there anything else?”

“Yes.” Rione briefly smiled sardonically at Geary’s aggravated expression. “Your internal foes, the senior officers in this fleet who’ve been plotting against you since you assumed command.”

If he really hated any part of his current situation, having to deal with disloyal officers who remained in the shadows had to be it. “Is there something specific you know? Something they’re planning?”

“No. But I know they must be planning something, and they must be intending to act before much longer.”

“Why?” Geary leaned forward. “Your spies must have told you something concrete to have you reach that conclusion.”

“I’ve heard nothing!” Rione stepped closer, her face angry now. “Don’t you understand? With every victory, with every star system you get this fleet closer to Alliance space, your legend grows and your standing in the fleet becomes stronger. Defeating the Syndics in this system was an amazing achievement, and if you want to partially credit my minor suggestion for that victory, then feel free, but even listening to such suggestions is a worthy accomplishment. This fleet believes in you. Sailors on every ship in this fleet are whispering that the living stars themselves intervened to prevent that energy discharge from destroying us, intervened because you are in command of the fleet.”

He stared at her, aghast. Did that explain the looks he’d gotten from Dauntless’s crew recently? “You can’t be serious.”

“I can show you the reports I’ve received, or you can walk around this ship some more and listen to the crew talk. Even the ones who don’t credit divine intervention with saving us believe with plenty of justification that your recognition of the danger and quick reaction saved many ships and personnel. Those in this fleet who didn’t believe in Black Jack Geary the myth are coming to believe in Black Jack Geary the man, and those who always believed in you now have unshakeable faith. Your enemies in this fleet can see that as well as I can. After what you’ve done here, returning to annihilate a Syndic force that outnumbered you and had this fleet on the run, your enemies will be growing desperate. Despite their own disbelief in you, they have to be coming to the conclusion that you might actually get this fleet home. They know they must discredit or stop you soon, or their chance will be lost.”

Geary nodded, his eyes narrowed in thought. “What do you think they’ll do?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to find out. They can nibble away at your standing with accusations of personal scandal, but that alone can’t dislodge you from command of this fleet. Not anymore. Their chosen figureheads like Casia are thoroughly discredited, not only because of your latest victory but also by their own recent actions. You have to assume that your real opponents among this fleet’s senior officers will finally have to make themselves more publicly known. Because your opponents have to strike, and they have to do it before much longer. Somehow.”

“You make it sound like they may actually attack me.”

“They might. Fortunately, on this ship you’re surrounded by the faithful, most notably your special captain, who would gladly sacrifice herself for Black Jack.” Rione saw his angry reaction. “Don’t try to claim otherwise. Just be grateful. She and I have our differences, but right now we are fully committed to ensuring that nothing happens to you.”

Of all the strange things that had happened since he was woken from survival sleep, the idea of Victoria Rione and Tanya Desjani standing on either side of him as bodyguards was perhaps the strangest. “I need to hold a conference with the ship commanders. Will you attend?”

“Not this time,” Rione answered. “I will monitor events remotely, but I’d like to see what people say without me there.”

Geary gave her a look. “The fleet conferences are conducted under a tight security seal. No one not present is supposed to be able to observe events.”

“Ah, well, another illusion shattered. Any security lock a human can make can be broken by another human, John Geary.” She went to the door. “I’ll be watching. What will you do with Captain Casia and Commander Yin?”

“I’m still trying to decide,” he replied truthfully.

“You don’t have to be Black Jack to have them shot, you know. Even Admiral Bloch could have done it with a simple order.”

“I know. I just don’t know if I want to do that. Do you think they should be shot?”

“Yes, and as soon as possible, Captain Geary,” Rione stated with total seriousness as she left.