Victorious

THREE

Admiral Timbale’s image saluted awkwardly. To Geary’s surprise, even such a senior officer seemed to take pleasure in the gesture of respect Geary had reintroduced into the fleet. “We can’t provide you with as many fast fleet auxiliaries as we’d like for a mission this deep into enemy territory. Bloch started out with ten, which was almost all we had then. You inherited four, and how you managed to get three of them back here in one piece I’ll never know. You’ll retain Titan, Witch, and Jinn. Tanuki and Alchemist have been ordered to Varandal and should be here soon. You’ll have them both.”

“Five is better than three. Thank you, sir.” He checked his own data, seeing that Tanuki was the same class as Titan, while Alchemist was a sister ship to the smaller Witch and Jinn.

“We’ll give you what additional firepower we can,” Timbale continued. “There are five new-construction battle cruisers on the way, all part of the new Adroit class.”

“I’m sure they’ll come in handy.” Geary read the names.

Adroit, Auspice, Assert, Agile, and Ascendant. Brand-new ships, brand-new crews, probably only a smattering of veterans among them. He constantly had to remind himself that losses in the war had become so routinely awful that veteran crews were a rare exception. Or had been. He had kept most of his ships and their crews alive to apply their experience to future engagements.

“You’ll also get a new Invincible,” Timbale added. “She was just finishing trials when you got back and confirmed the loss of the old Invincible, so her temporary name was made permanent.”

The irony of having a new Invincible to replace an older, destroyed Invincible didn’t escape Geary. He didn’t comment on it outwardly, but Timbale must have seen something.

The admiral gave a crooked smile. “You may not be aware that Invincible is regarded as a bad-luck name in the fleet. Ships named Invincible tend to get destroyed quickly. No one knows why. The sailors blame it on the name being a too-proud challenge to the living stars.”

“But we keep naming ships Invincible anyway?”

“I think the fleet bureaucracy is determined to eventually disprove the curse no matter how many Invincibles we lose in the process,” Timbale suggested dryly.

Geary made a face. “Before the fight at Grendel, there was talk about naming ships after planets or people.”

“It still comes up occasionally. Every time it gets shot down because no one can agree on a formula for choosing which planets and people get the honors. Too damn much hate and discontent get raised over that issue, so we always fall back on naming battleships and battle cruisers after qualities and attributes, which everyone can pretend we all agree on.” Timbale shrugged. “So the five Adroits and the latest Invincible plus Intemperate and Insistent are your new battle cruisers. Then there are the battleships,” Timbale concluded. “You’ve already got Dreadnaught and Dependable. Resound, Sustain, and Encroach are on their way. Besides those major combatants, you’ll have a total of twelve new heavy cruisers, ten more light cruisers, and nineteen destroyers.” The admiral gave Geary an apologetic look. “The grand council wants to keep a lot of destroyers here to act as scouts and couriers.”

“That’s all right. I’m grateful for everything being added to the fleet,” Geary assured him.

“Is there anything else? Anything at all?”

Geary studied his fleet status display, then shrugged. “Nothing I can ask for in good conscience. The Alliance is giving me an awful lot of what it has left.”

Admiral Timbale nodded. “I only wish we had more repair capability here.” He hesitated. “Fleet Admiral Geary, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to say. When you arrived in this star system, you could’ve squashed me. You could’ve been arrogant, and you could’ve walked all over me in front of the universe. But you didn’t. You treated me with all the courtesy and respect your superior officer could have asked for. That’s why I am happy to serve under you now. Thank you.”

The praise made Geary uncomfortable, as did the naming of his still-new rank, but he just smiled back at the other officer. “That was only my duty, Admiral Timbale.”

“You had a choice,” Timbale disagreed. “When does the fleet leave?”

“Two more days if those additional ships are here by then.”

“They should be.”

After Timbale’s image had vanished, Geary turned back to his fleet status display. A tremendous amount of repair work had been done, with the extensive facilities at Varandal working around the clock, but there had also been a tremendous amount of damage to the fleet’s ships.

Still, the battle cruiser Incredible had lived up to her name, somehow getting back into shape for combat despite the awful damage suffered in battles on the way home. Inspire, under the command of Captain Duellos, had also returned to full combat capability, even though not all of the repairs would have passed fleet inspections, and Duellos reported that much of Inspire’s crew remained slightly shell-shocked from what had become of their former command officer. It was one thing for a captain to die in battle and another thing entirely to lose a captain because of treason.

Other battleships and battle cruisers had either regained almost full capability, or enough to accompany the fleet once again. Given enough resources, any ship could be patched together again as long as it hadn’t been blown to pieces, and Varandal and the surrounding star systems had poured everything they had into the repair effort.

Geary frowned as his eye rested on the name of Orion. That battleship’s performance had been nothing but disappointing while she was commanded by Captain Numos and ever since as well. His plans to break up her crew and recrew the ship had been stymied by all the problems that would have created in reassigning so many fleet personnel while everyone was scrambling to get their ships back into shape.

He wondered what the captains of the new ships would be like, how much retraining they might need to fight with the rest of the fleet’s ships. Following that line of thought, he brought up data on the new battle cruisers, wondering what the Adroit class was like. Scanning the information, Geary felt like punching the virtual display. Under the guise of producing a new class of ships, the Alliance had reduced their size and capabilities as well as their cost. The Adroit-class ships were shorter and massed less than Dauntless and her sister ships, they carried fewer hell lances in fewer batteries, and fewer specter missiles, grapeshot, and mines. At least their propulsion capability seemed to match the older battle cruisers’.

Unhappily reading over the differences in the new ships, Geary had a deeper understanding of why the fleet was so unhappy with the government. Even though he knew how badly stressed the Alliance was by the cost and resources demanded by the war, he still felt angry at the diminished capability of the Adroit-class ships.

But he had learned by now that he had to fight with what was available. Five more battle cruisers of lesser capability were still five more battle cruisers.

Geary looked up as the alert on his stateroom hatch sounded. “Come in.”

The hatch almost flew open, and Tanya Desjani stormed in, a thundercloud on her forehead.

Leaping to his feet, Geary stood as she slammed the hatch shut and stalked to stand directly in front of him. “What’s the matter?”

“That woman! That politician! She brought a Syndic aboard this ship without notifying me!”

Geary felt a familiar headache beginning. “Why did Rione bring a Syndic aboard this ship?”

“She didn’t deign to inform me!” Desjani was as angry as he’d ever seen her, incensed at the disregard of her prerogatives as commanding officer of Dauntless. “I respectfully request, Fleet Admiral Geary, that you intervene in this matter since the senator is not under my command!”

He had a million things he needed to be doing at that moment. Given the bad blood between them, he could guess why Rione had failed to tell Desjani, but why had Rione also not told him? Geary was reaching to call her when his hatch alert chimed again. “Come in.”

Co-President Rione entered, appearing oblivious to Desjani’s glower. “Oh, good, you’re both here. I wanted to inform the captain that there was a last-minute high-priority prisoner diversion. My apologies for not getting that information to you sooner.”

Desjani spoke with obviously forced control. “Madam Co-President, I am supposed to be informed and give my approval before any prisoners are transferred on or off this ship.”

“It was, as I said, last-minute. I had to make a snap decision to keep the Syndic from being sent on to the prison ship taking the others to the camp at Tartarus.”

Breaking in before Desjani could erupt again, Geary spoke to Rione. “What’s so special about this Syndic?”

“He wants to talk to you.”

Geary glared at Rione. “There’s a billion somebodies who want to talk to me. What’s so special about this Syndic?”

She gazed back dispassionately. “He’s the CEO who was the second in command of the Syndic reserve flotilla, captured by us after his ship was destroyed in the battle here.”

“He is?” Geary’s anger drained as he considered that. “Why does he want to talk to me?”

Rione leaned back against the nearest bulkhead, crossing her arms. “He says he wants to make a deal.”

“A deal.” His limited experience with Syndic CEOs had left Geary with a bad taste in his mouth, but on the other hand, there were a couple of them who had acted honorably.

Desjani, whose opinions of Syndics and their trustworthiness rarely rose higher than the tiniest possible increment above absolute zero, kept her glower. “What kind of deal?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rione asked. “As a high-ranking officer in the reserve flotilla, he probably knows as much about the aliens as any Syndic outside their Executive Council. He wants to trade that knowledge for something.”

Geary gave Rione a skeptical look. “What’s he like?”

“I don’t know enough to give you an assessment.”

“But you think I should talk to him.”

Rione rolled her eyes. “Yes, Black Jack. Talk to the man.”

“Fleet Admiral Geary,” Desjani said in a tight voice, “I recommend caution in dealing with an enemy who has nothing to lose.”

Without waiting for Geary’s reply, Rione nodded seriously to Desjani. “I concur. Would you agree to accompany us to the interrogation, Captain?”

Desjani shot a suspicious glance at Rione over her courteous words, but nodded. “Thank you.”

Geary paused to grab some painkiller for his headache, then headed for the hatch. “Let’s go.”

The Syndic had been taken to the interrogation rooms in the intelligence section, rooms whose systems could remotely monitor everything going on inside and outside any person seated within. Geary took a moment to review what was known of the Syndic CEO. Name—Jason Boyens. Rank—Third-Level CEO. Last-known assignment—second in command in a flotilla. Except for the name, it told him nothing new at all. “All right. Let’s get this over with.” Geary glanced over at Desjani and saw her face still set with barely controlled anger. “What?”

“I’m just recalling the last Syndic turncoat who offered us a deal, sir,” she answered in a harsh voice. “He had a Syndic hypernet key we could use to reach the Syndic home star system.”

“Oh.” That sounded stupid as well as inadequate. “Wasn’t that guy ever questioned in an interrogation room?” He’d never felt any desire to learn more about the events that had led to the fleet’s near destruction.

Rione answered, her own gaze fixed on the readouts. “He was. Either he was incredibly gifted at deceptive answers so subtly rendered that we couldn’t see the truth, or he was himself duped by the Syndics and didn’t realize the role he was playing for them.”

“Whatever happened to him? I’ve assumed the ship he was on was destroyed in the Syndic ambush.”

Rione didn’t answer, but her eyes flicked meaningfully toward Desjani.

Desjani’s own expression took on a stony cast. “He was aboard Dauntless, sir.”

“Then what—?” He choked off the question, knowing what the answer had to be. The fleet he’d assumed command of hadn’t had any compunction about killing prisoners of war. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened to a Syndic who had double-crossed that fleet once it became clear that his offer had actually been a trap.

But Desjani answered anyway. “He was executed on the spot per orders from Admiral Bloch,” she said in a toneless voice. “The spot in question being three meters behind and one-half meter to the left of the fleet commander’s seat on the bridge.”

It took Geary a moment to get it. “He was sitting in the observer’s seat?” He couldn’t help looking at Rione, who had customarily used that same seat ever since Geary had assumed command, but she seemed both unsurprised and unmoved by the news.

“We burned the seat cushions,” Desjani added. “The bloodstains would’ve come out, but nobody wanted to use them again.” She paused at whatever she saw in Geary’s eyes. “No, sir. I was busy trying to fight my ship through the ambush. The execution was carried out by the Marine guarding the traitor.”

He looked away for a moment. “It was a lawful order. I couldn’t have blamed you if you had carried it out.” It wasn’t hard to remember the shell-shocked expressions of the crew after the Syndic ambush, how badly they’d been stressed by the sudden loss of so many of their sister ships in the fleet. None of them would have hesitated for a moment to take revenge on an individual in great part responsible for that. “We won’t let this Syndic do the same.”

“We can’t trust him,” Desjani repeated.

“I have no intention of trusting him.” Desjani seemed slightly mollified by Geary’s words, so he turned and walked into the interrogation room while Desjani and Rione remained behind, along with the intelligence personnel, to watch the monitors.

CEO Boyens stood up when Geary entered the room. He looked nervous, which was understandable. One leg was still in a light flex cast, revealing battle injuries that hadn’t quite healed. The CEO hesitated at the sight of Geary’s insignia. “Admiral Geary?”

“Yes.” Geary kept his voice hard. “What’s the deal you want?”

The Syndic took a deep breath before speaking again. “I have information you need. In exchange for it, I want your agreement to defend human space against the aliens.”

He took a moment to absorb that. “You’re the first Syndic to openly admit they exist, and you want us to commit to protecting the Syndicate Worlds from them?”

“Yes.”He’s telling the truth so far, Lieutenant Iger’s voice whispered to Geary through the comm link.

On the heels of Iger came Rione’s voice. How much does he really know?

That was a good question. Geary frowned at the Syndic CEO. “How do I know that you know all that much?”

Boyens smiled crookedly. “I’ve been second in command of the reserve flotilla for ten years. I know as much as our Executive Council told anyone and as much as I could personally observe.”Ten years? Desjani’s voice demanded.

Geary understood her question. “That’s a very long time for anyone to serve in any assignment. Why were you there that long?”

This time Boyens shrugged. “I was exiled to that assignment, for want of a better word. I’m an engineer by training, and I’d established a promising start-up company. A much-bigger corporation wanted our business, and the CEOs running that corporation had the ears of the CEOs running the Syndicate Worlds. My company got taken from me. Instead of being smart and lying low while I worked my way up the CEO ladder until I could exact revenge in a few decades, I made a fuss over it, citing the Syndicate Worlds’ laws that had been ignored. Before I knew it, I’d been ordered to a position in the reserve flotilla.” The CEO shrugged again. “An assignment out on a border far from any chance for advancement. I couldn’t even tell anyone why I was really there since officially the reserve flotilla only existed as a backup against the Alliance. I also couldn’t get transferred out, thanks to the people I’d ticked off earlier.”It all reads out as truthful, Iger advised.

Geary sat down and leaned back slightly, eyeing Boyens. “And now you want the Alliance fleet to help you get revenge against those people?”

The CEO shook his head. “No. That’s not what this is about. Those people are part of a ruling group that has driven the Syndicate Worlds into this war and fumbled its execution time and again. I don’t expect you to believe me when I say this, but I’m also motivated by a desire to protect my own home from the corruption and idiocy of the people who’ve been leading the Syndicate Worlds.”

“Do you consider yourself a patriot, then?” Geary asked.

Boyens flinched. “I don’t know. I do know that thanks to the decisions of the Syndicate Worlds’ leaders, and thanks to the victories you’ve won, we’re wide open to attack by not only the Alliance but also the aliens. I know how they act as well as any human does. That’s not very well, and no one really understands how they think, but I’m very worried.”

“Which ‘they’ do you mean?” Geary asked. “The aliens or the leaders of the Syndicate Worlds?”

The CEO flashed an anxious smile. “Both. I’d bet my life that right now the CEOs on the Executive Council are gathering in the home star system every remaining warship in the Syndicate Worlds’ mobile forces.”

Geary snorted. “You are betting your life.”

“That’s what I figured.”

As CEOs went, this one seemed both candid and shrewd. As Geary paused to think, rubbing his chin, Rione’s voice whispered to him again. He’s reading out as honest in his statements. He’s also worried, but that could be because of fears for personal safety rather than fears for the people of the Syndicate Worlds.

Give us more readings, sir, Iger urged. Ask him about the aliens.

“I need to know more about what you’re offering,” Geary stated. “Tell me something about these aliens.”

Boyens hesitated. “The things I know are my bargaining chips. If I tell you enough, you might not need to make a deal.”

“CEO Boyens,” Geary said coldly, “I won’t make a trade no matter what information you have unless I know that what you’re proposing is in the best interests of the Alliance and humanity as a whole. So I suggest you start trying to convince me.”

The CEO watched Geary for several seconds, then nodded. “That matches what we’ve seen of your behavior. What do you want to know?”

“What do the aliens look like?” That maybe wasn’t the most important thing, but it was a question he had been wondering about for some time.

“I don’t know. As far as I can tell, no one does.” Boyens smiled crookedly at Geary’s reaction. “It’s true. If any human has ever personally encountered the aliens, they haven’t reported back on it. We have had ships vanish in the border regions, and long ago on exploration trips beyond the border. Maybe their crews are prisoners, maybe they’re dead. But none of them have come back.”

“Haven’t the Syndics talked to the aliens?”

“Comm links. Negotiations are pretty rare, but I’ve observed two of them.” Boyens spread his hands in a frustrated gesture. “I’m not talking virtual meetings, just viewing the other side on a screen. But what they show us are obviously human avatars, fake images of humans against fake backgrounds.”How does he know they’re fake? Iger asked. Digital signals wouldn’t carry any means of knowing whether the content was real or altered.

“Fake?” Geary asked in turn. “What makes you certain that they’re fake?”

“They’re realistic enough to fool someone at first, but after a little while you start picking up on tiny inconsistencies and behaviors that feel wrong. It’s like … suppose you were pretending to be a cat. You could probably get good enough at it to fool other humans. But real cats would still know the difference.”He believes that’s the truth, Iger assured Geary.

For his part, Geary locked his eyes on Boyens’. “Humans vary a great deal. How do you know they’re not really human?”

This time Boyens startled Geary by laughing, but the laughter held a sharp edge instead of humor. “If you ever see them, you’ll know. I’ve talked to people from different cultures. I know how points of view can vary. But there’s something about the aliens that goes beyond that, no matter how hard they try to hide it. Tru—” He laughed again, through clenched teeth. “I was about to say ‘trust me.’ But that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“No. Tell me what these aliens want. You must have some idea.”

The CEO frowned. “Only in general terms. From the records I’ve been able to access, and that’s too damned few since anything regarding the aliens is classified and compartmentalized as much as possible, after first contact it seemed that all the aliens wanted was for us not to push into their territory. In the next couple of decades they seemed to want to push into our territory, but very cautiously. About seventy years ago they stopped that, and aside from occasional tests of our defenses, they’ve been quiet. No one knows why, because whoever has talked to them gets the clear impression they want some of the star systems occupied by the Syndicate Worlds. But there hadn’t even been a feint within the last five or six months before we were ordered to leave that border and attack the Alliance.”

That didn’t tell Geary any more than he had already guessed. “What do their ships look like?”

“We don’t know. They’ve got some kind of stealth gear that’s a million light-years better than ours. You see nothing on sensors but a big blur on which our best gear can’t make out any details.” Boyens glared at Geary, plainly expecting this statement to be challenged. “We’ve tried everything we can think of to get a decent look at one of their ships. Decades ago, some volunteers in stealth suits were vectored toward some alien ships that had entered a Syndicate Worlds’ star system for negotiations. We hoped they would get close enough to get inside the alien stealth bubble, if that’s what it is, and get a real look at things, but they all died before they saw anything.”

“The Syndics have never destroyed an alien ship and had wreckage to examine?” Geary demanded.

“No.” The Syndic CEO stared at the deck.

He’s holding something back, Lieutenant Iger reported.

“Have you ever fought them?” Geary asked Boyens.

“No.”

That answer surprised Geary, so he waited for Iger to report that it was a lie, but no such statement came. He was still thinking about his next question when Rione spoke. Ask him if the Syndics have ever fought the aliens. Not him personally. The Syndics.

The deception was obvious once Rione pointed it out. Geary set his jaw angrily as he eyed the Syndic. “Have the Syndics ever fought the aliens?”

Boyens’s own jaw clenched for a moment, then he nodded. “Decades ago.”

“What happened?”

“I wasn’t there.”Evasion, Iger announced.

“Do you know what happened?” The Syndic stood silently, and Geary got up. “You want us to trust you when you’re obviously withholding critical information? Why shouldn’t I leave the Syndic border area to its own devices?”

The Syndic flushed with what seemed to be a mix of anger and embarrassment. “They always seem one step ahead of us. I was briefed on one program that should have worked. We jumped ships into star systems only a light-year or so from alien-occupied star systems, then launched asteroids hollowed out to hold sensors at the alien star systems. Even at the speeds we launched them, they would have taken decades to reach their targets, but they should’ve looked like nothing but high-velocity rocks since all of their sensors were passive and their power systems were so heavily shielded. It didn’t work. Sensors tracking the trajectories of the rocks spotted their destruction short of the alien star systems.”Interesting, Rione’s voice noted unemotionally, but also a diversion. He’s still avoiding talking about what happened when the Syndics fought these aliens.

Geary rubbed his chin as he thought about ways to get this Syndic to say more about the alien sensors and combat capabilities. “I assume the Syndicate Worlds has also tried crewed missions into alien-occupied star systems.”

“Right. None came back. We never heard anything from any of them.”

“What about the star systems you’ve abandoned to them? Did you try leaving anything on those that could report back?”

Boyens stared at Geary. “How did you—? Yes, we’ve abandoned some star systems to maintain peace on the border, and yes, sensors were left behind. We hid automated courier ships in the star systems to pick up what those sensors saw, then jump out with the information. None of those ships ever reported in. It’s like the damned aliens know everything we’re doing the moment we do it. Before we do it, even.”

“Is that what happened when the Syndics fought them?” Geary pressed.

The Syndic CEO seemed to spend a long moment deciding what to say, then he met Geary’s eyes. “Yes. And on those occasions when our warships could acquire targets and fire on them, the shots had no effect. Hell lances were absorbed with no indications of damage, grapeshot simply vanished against the alien screens, and our missiles were all destroyed short of their targets.”

Geary smiled thinly. “Why didn’t you want us to know that?”

“Because I wanted you to fight them. I was afraid if I told you, then you’d decide not to confront the aliens and leave the Syndicate Worlds to deal with the threat.”

“You think we can do what your warships couldn’t?”

Boyens’s face reddened. “Don’t toy with me. You’ve annihilated Syndic flotillas time and again, including flotillas that substantially outnumbered your own forces. I don’t know how. But you obviously have a major advantage over us.”

Rione’s voice came again, sounding amused this time. I wonder if he realizes that he’s looking at that advantage as he speaks.

Unable to give Rione an annoyed look, Geary stayed focused on the Syndic. “What else can you tell us?”

The CEO hesitated, then spoke roughly. “Not a lot. Most of what I have to offer is experience. Experience dealing with senior CEOs and the aliens. I can help. I just want you to help hold off the aliens.”

“Why?”

Boyens sighed, then spread his hands helplessly. “I helped defend them for ten years. I got to know them. I … feel responsible for them.”

“You say that like you should be apologizing for caring about them,” Geary challenged.

Boyens didn’t answer, looking away, then faced Geary again. “Mobile-forces CEOs, any mobile-forces officers and personnel, are discouraged from developing any personal ties with local populations … because it might lead to their hesitating when they have to take necessary internal-security actions.”

“Internal-security actions. Such as bombarding your own planets?”

“Yes.”

“How the hell does any human being agree to do that?” Geary demanded.

Once again, the CEO was silent for a while. “To keep everyone safe. I know how that sounds. Threaten to kill your own people to keep them safe. But it maintains order. It keeps us strong enough to face external threats. It’s about what’s best for the majority of the people. We can’t let small groups jeopardize the security of everyone else.”

Apparently the aliens weren’t the only beings with thought patterns hard to understand. Geary was trying to decide what else to ask, whether or not to order Boyens transferred off Dauntless again, when Rione spoke. Ask him about Senator Navarro, about the lack of attacks on Abassas.

Why did Rione want to know that? But maybe the answer would provide an important insight. “One more thing, CEO Boyens, and I’ll tell you frankly that if I don’t like the answer, you’ll be off this ship. Why hasn’t Abassas Star System been attacked for a while?”

Boyens looked perplexed. “Abassas? Is that near Syndicate Worlds’ space?”

“Yes. It’s the home star system of the current chair of the Alliance grand council.”

The Syndic CEO appeared puzzled a moment longer, then suddenly laughed. “You’re falling for that? Seriously? It’s the oldest trick in the book.”

“What is?” Geary demanded.

“Avoiding attacking property belonging to an enemy leader. It makes the enemy wonder what kind of deal that leader might have cut. I don’t have personal knowledge of Abassas, but that’s a common strategy for sowing dissension in the enemy ranks.” Boyens stopped laughing and spread his hands. “I don’t know if you like that answer or not, but that’s the only answer I know.”

Geary nodded abruptly. “Thank you. You’ll be taken to the brig on this ship while your offer is evaluated.”

He turned and left, trying to resist the urge to yell at the Syndic.

Halting in the observation room, Geary took in the displays. “What do you think?” he asked everyone there.

Rione answered first, her own eyes on the readouts. “He didn’t register as deceptive in his request for aid, though there were other places where he was clearly shading the truth and being certain to phrase his answers carefully.”

Lieutenant Iger nodded. “That matches my assessment, sir. The request for aid appears to be sincere. He didn’t tell us anything that was a lie. That doesn’t mean that he didn’t hold back other things, though. Things that might be important.”

Desjani, her eyes narrowed in thought, was gazing not at the Syndic or the displays, but into the distance. “They’re not acting like they’re more powerful than we are.”

It took Geary a moment to realize what she was referring to. “The aliens?”

“Yes.” She turned her head to focus on him. “Concealing your strength, capabilities, and dispositions are all usually good tactics in battle, but there are still times when it’s a good idea to let the other side know that you have overwhelming superiority. Instead, they’re hiding their capabilities.”

Rione was watching Desjani and nodded in agreement. “That’s so. Especially in negotiations.”

“But,” Desjani continued, “it’s also useful to make the enemy think that you’re stronger than you actually are. To keep him guessing. It’s a very good tactic to employ when you’re actually weaker than the enemy.”

Everyone stood silently for a few moments while they thought about that. “How do we know,” Geary finally said, “that they’re thinking like we would? Maybe to them, all of this mystery is just normal.”

“Even hiding the shapes of their ships?” Desjani shook her head. “If what that Syndic said is true, then these aliens have devoted a huge amount of effort to keep humans from learning anything about them. Maybe they are privacy freaks who hide themselves under every possible disguise and cover, but if this were a human foe, I would ask myself what they are so concerned with hiding.”

Lieutenant Iger spoke deferentially. “Captain, that’s from a human perspective. On Earth and many other planets, the dominant life-forms use physical displays to overawe opponents, trying to make themselves look bigger than they are. Humans do it, too, to some extent. But there are life-forms that use very different approaches, such as lurking hidden until their prey comes close enough, then striking before the victim can react.”

Rione made a disgusted noise. “You’d think the Syndics could have learned a little more in a century of contact. This CEO is holding back information.” She suddenly seemed to think of something. “How long ago did the Alliance and the Syndicate Worlds ‘discover’ the hypernet technology and begin creating their own hypernets?”

Desjani tapped her data unit, then read the answer. “The first segments of the hypernets on both sides were activated sixty-nine years ago.”

Rione’s lip curled in anger. “The CEO claimed the aliens were fairly active until about seventy years ago and have been mostly quiet since then. Those bastards spent a few decades learning more about humanity, then sent in the hypernet technology and since that time have been sitting back and waiting for us to annihilate ourselves.”

“Why the probing attacks during that time?” Geary wondered.

“To make sure our sensors and weapons hadn’t changed in any major ways,” Desjani suggested.

“That’s plausible,” Iger agreed.

There were still far too many questions, and the Syndic CEO seemed to have far too few answers. “Is he worth keeping on this ship?” Geary asked.

“I’d recommend it,” Rione said. “I believe his answer regarding the lack of attacks on Abassas. It registered true, and strikes me as a very effective tactic. I may have to use it myself sometime.”

“I’d recommend keeping him as well, sir,” Iger added. “He could have more information, and he told us that he knew the people in the border star systems, the ones in charge out there. We might need those contacts.”

Desjani looked unhappy, then slowly nodded. “We need every advantage we can get when we know so little about these aliens. And if he tries to betray us, I want him within easy reach of an Alliance Marine with a loaded weapon.”

Two and a half days later, Geary ordered the fleet into motion. He watched the swarm of warships come together into the single large formation he’d ordered for this part of the transit. Except for the flaring main propulsion units at their sterns, the warships resembled sharks of various sizes, a bit shorter and chunkier than any shark in the case of the battleships, but otherwise the comparison came easily. Fins carrying sensors, weapons, and shield generators projected from the curved surfaces of the hulls, which were designed to deflect hits. The fast, lean, and small sharks that were destroyers darted swiftly to their assigned positions relative to Dauntless, the larger light cruisers moving among them with almost as much agility. The heavy cruisers swung through space with calm authority, their greater armor, weaponry, and bulk reflecting their primary mission as killers of other escorts.

The battleships moved like the monsters they were, huge, bristling with weapons, slower, and almost clumsy because of their massive size, yet as near to indestructible as anything humanity put into space. Around them came the battle cruisers, about the same size as the battleships and well armed, but leaner and faster, having traded protection for more ability to accelerate and maneuver.

Near the center of the formation were the so-called fast fleet auxiliaries. “Fast” only in the minds of whoever had given them the name, the auxiliaries were neither rounded nor sharklike. Instead, their blocky lines resembled what they were, mammoth self-propelled manufacturing facilities that carried their own raw materials to fashion replacements for needed repairs as well as new fuel cells, missiles, grapeshot, and mines to replace those used by the warships. In combat, they were a constant worry, unable to maneuver as well as the warships or protect themselves very well, but without the resupply and repair capability on those auxiliaries, Geary could never have brought the fleet back through Syndic space. He hoped he wouldn’t need them as badly this time.

The images of the new Adroit-class battle cruisers held his gaze for a moment, and he had to avoid frowning at his display in displeasure. There was no telling what anyone watching him might think the frown was about, and he knew from long experience that everyone watched the most senior officers to judge their current attitudes and emotions. It was one of the first survival tactics any reasonably smart junior officer learned.

But he wasn’t unhappy at anyone in the fleet or the actions of any of the warships. His displeasure sprang from having used the fleet’s software to conduct a virtual tour of Adroit herself several hours ago. Geary had long ago resigned himself to the fact that the warships in this future weren’t finely honed structures built to endure for decades. Instead, they were all built quickly, with few frills and many a rough edge. A century of war had resulted in warships whose short expected life span didn’t justify craftsmanship.

But the Adroit class had taken that to a new and lower level, worse than he had realized just from reviewing the official statistics about the new battle cruisers. As Geary’s avatar had toured the ship, he had been forced to ever greater efforts to avoid revealing how appalled he was by construction shortcuts and design compromises that had saved time and money at the cost of creating significant weaknesses in the Adroit and her sister ships. He could tell from Captain Kattnig’s explanations and occasional apologies about equipment that Adroit’s commanding officer was well aware of her shortcomings, and any veterans among her crew surely knew as well. But it would have served no purpose for him to emphasize and openly fixate on the design problems. Geary had been on the receiving end of that before, stuck with equipment he knew wasn’t all it should be, then forced to endure failing grades and harsh criticisms aimed at him and his personnel from inspection teams that seemed to think crews were supposed to miraculously overcome the accumulated failures of the design, procurement, and testing processes.

So he took care to hide his reaction because Adroit’s crew could too easily have assumed that his disapproval was about them. Nothing could have been further from the truth than that. The crew was eager to prove themselves, disappointed at having missed the desperate voyage home that the rest of the fleet had endured, determined to shine in the eyes of Black Jack Geary. Captain Kattnig knew Captain Tulev. “We were enlisted men serving together on the Determined, and both received our field commissions after a battle at Hattera.” Kattnig’s eyes had gone wistful for a moment. “That was a lot of ships, a lot of battles ago. Tulev and I are still here, though.”

“I’m glad to have both of you under my command,” Geary replied. “I understand Adroit was only commissioned two months ago.”

“About that, yes, sir. But we’re ready,” Kattnig insisted. “We can keep up with the fleet.”

“I’ve no doubt of it.” Geary had spoken clearly enough for nearby crew members to hear. “Adroit feels like a veteran ship. I know you’ll fight well.”

Captain Kattnig nodded, his expression tense. “We will, sir. None of us could be with you on the long return to Alliance space, and we all regret that.”

The absurdity of regretting missing out on the desperate retreat made Geary smile, but he managed to make the smile an understanding one. He didn’t have any trouble grasping why people wanted to be with their comrades at such times. “We could have used you, but you’re with us now.”

“I understand Captain Tulev did well,” Kattnig added in a lower voice. “He excelled.”

“He did. Captain Tulev is both reliable and capable. I was very glad to have him along.”

“That’s good to hear. Captain Tulev and I were commissioned together.”

“Yes, so you told me.”

“Did I? My apologies, Admiral.” Captain Kattnig glanced around, as if studying his own ship. “They say you’ll end the war. This may be the last campaign.”

“If the living stars grant us that blessing, this will be the last campaign of the war,” Geary agreed.

“Yes. A good thing.” Kattnig sounded slightly uncertain, though. “I couldn’t be with the fleet, you know. My last ship, Paragon, had been badly damaged in the fighting at Valdisia, so we were undergoing major repairs at T’shima.”

“I see.”

“Then Paragon was rushed into action to defend the Alliance when the fleet was … unable to be accounted for. We were so badly shot up defending Beowulf that the ship was written off.”

“It must have been a valiant action,” Geary said, wondering why Kattnig seemed to be trying to justify his absence from the fleet when it first attacked the Syndic home star system.

“It was, sir. It was.” Kattnig’s voice sank to a whisper, his eyes staring into the distance, then he focused back on Geary. “I demanded another ship. To … to be with the fleet this time.”

Geary spoke quietly and firmly. “The defense of the Alliance while the fleet was gone was a critical task. Otherwise, we would have returned to find ruin and defeat. You performed well.”

“Thank you, sir. You will see how well my ship can perform,” Kattnig promised.

Geary had done what he could to keep morale on Adroit high, but his inspection had provided too many proofs that her crew could fight better than the ship they had been given. Necessary redundancies in critical systems had been reduced past the safe minimums, weapons capabilities were hindered by cost-cutting in the lines supplying power to the hell lances and in the missile magazines, which carried fewer specters than even their limited size could have managed if properly laid out. Sensors lacked redundancies and capabilities as well, the Adroit class having been designed to be dependent on the sensors being employed by other ships. All well and good in a fleet engagement, but an Adroit-class ship on her own would be significantly handicapped by that feature. He couldn’t even send an Adroit out in company with only escorts, since the capabilities of cruisers and destroyers couldn’t completely compensate for the shortfalls of the sensors on the new battle cruisers.

The design of the Adroit-class warships had once again driven home to him just how bad things were, just how much the economies and industrial base of the combatants had been strained by a century of warfare beyond even the abilities of interstellar civilizations to sustain. If he didn’t succeed in bringing an end to this war, everything would continue to deteriorate, an accelerating spiral toward collapse, as if the war were a black hole sucking in humanity and everything humanity had created among the stars. He could now understand the desperation that had led Desjani to demand his promise to stick to the mission she believed he had been assigned by the living stars themselves. He could understand the hope with which people looked to him. He wondered how much all of them understood the strain their hopes put on him.

Desjani did. He felt certain of that. She understood well enough that she had as much as offered to surrender her honor to him if he asked that of her, if Geary said he needed that. His reaction to that offer, a refusal to do such a thing to her, had given him the strength to keep going. Humanity’s civilizations might be crumbling, but as long as people like Desjani kept fighting and believing, there was hope the fall could be arrested.

So Geary sat in the fleet command seat on Dauntless’s bridge as the fleet’s warships settled into their assigned positions, then the entire fleet began accelerating toward the jump point for the Syndic-controlled star system of Atalia, hundreds of warships moving as one.

He became aware that Desjani was watching him, unaware of his own inner thoughts. At least, he hoped she was unaware of them. At times, Desjani had shown an unsettling ability to seem to be reading his mind. “What?”

“They’re a fine sight, aren’t they, sir?” she asked. “I never saw them maneuver like this. We were always slop-pier before. What counted was getting to grips with the enemy, not looking good in formation. We didn’t realize that there was a connection between those two things.”

“They look very good. They are very good. But they won’t all be coming home,” Geary noted in a quiet voice.

“No. It’s been a century since they all came home, Fleet Admiral Geary. Perhaps you’ll finally change that.”

“If I do, I won’t have done it alone, Captain Desjani.”

The fleet headed out, every eye in Varandal Star System on its progress.

“Our first stop will be Atalia,” Geary confirmed to the officers watching him. “We’ll assume battle formation before jump even though we don’t expect to encounter significant opposition at Atalia. If the Syndics want a fight there, though, we’ll give it to them.” The fleet conference room seemed to be huge just then, with a very long table occupied by the virtual presences of every commanding officer of every ship in the fleet. In addition to the fleet officers, newly promoted Marine General Carabali was present, along with Co-President Rione and two grand council representatives, the stout Senator Costa and a male senator named Sakai, who’d spoken little when Geary met with the council.

Most of the fleet officers were doing their best to ignore the presence of the two new politicians but were treating Rione with marginal courtesy since it was known that Geary trusted her. The officers of the ships from the Callas Republic and the Rim Federation had always regarded Rione as their politician and defended her, but even they had been happy that they had never had to choose between her and Geary.

Where Captain Cresida should have been, one of the new battle-cruiser captains sat. A replacement, and yet not a replacement. But at least the stolid, reliable presences of Captains Duellos and Tulev were there, and Desjani was physically present.

“In order to ensure security for our plans, I’ll give further orders at Atalia,” Geary continued. “I’m not happy keeping you in the dark until then, but it’s critical to keep our plans secret. Are there any questions?”

Most of the officers looked disappointed but nodded in acceptance. However, the newer commanders, those who had joined the fleet at Varandal, looked around with confused expressions. Geary knew what they were expecting, to have him lay out a plan that he would try to convince the fleet’s officers to support, using political maneuvering to build up enough support until the fleet commander called for a vote among the fleet captains sanctioning the plan. He’d done away with that procedure as fast as he could, though for a long time fleet conferences had been painfully contentious.

“Fleet Admiral Geary”—Captain Olisa of the battle cruiser Ascendant sounded torn between respect and challenge—“fleet officers are accustomed to receiving more information about proposed plans at this point.”

Geary gave Olisa a polite but firm look in return. “My plans aren’t proposed, Captain. They’ve been made. I’ll let you know more when I can.”

“But we need to discuss—”

Tulev broke in, speaking dispassionately. “Fleet Admiral Geary is open to suggestions and comment, Isvan. I assure you he will listen, but he does not do things as you are accustomed. He follows the path of our ancestors.”

“Our ancestors?” Olisa grimaced, but nodded. “I had heard things were different. It takes some getting used to, though.”

“I understand,” Geary replied. “I had a number of things to get used to as well.”

“Can you confirm our mission, Fleet Admiral Geary?” Captain Armus of the Colossus asked. “Are we indeed aiming to force an end to the war?”

Geary weighed his response. Armus had been difficult at times and was by no stretch an inspired officer, but he was also brave enough and followed orders. At the moment he was, in addition, being respectful and proper, which deserved the same treatment in return. Geary finally nodded. “That’s correct. We intend backing the Syndics into a corner and keeping them there until they agree to halt the fighting. Not just a cease-fire. An end to the war.”

Captain Badaya, who had seemed smug and contented since Geary’s promotion, nodded back as if sharing a secret with Geary. “Using your plan, Fleet Admiral Geary.”

“Yes. You’ll all get much more detail on it at Atalia, I promise.”

As the officers’ images vanished, Geary saw that the two new political observers remained as if expecting something. “Yes, Senators?”

Costa gave Geary a quick smile. “You can brief us now that the others have left.”

Desjani seemed to be literally biting her lip to keep from saying something. Geary searched for the correct and diplomatic response.

But Rione turned to Costa with a reassuring smile. “I’ll bring them up to date, Fleet Admiral Geary.”

She would? Geary hadn’t confided his exact plans to Rione. Had she broken his security? But then on the side of her face away from the other senators Rione dropped a slow wink to Geary. “All right,” Geary said. “Captain Desjani?”

He left hastily with Desjani, wondering what Rione would tell the others to keep them happy. “I wonder if there’s any way to freeze those two out of the meeting software?”

“At least you have that politician to handle them,” Desjani grumbled. “May my ancestors forgive me, but I’m actually grateful for the moment that she’s on board.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“And very quickly, too,” Desjani agreed. “Will you be on the bridge for the jump to Atalia?”

“Of course.” Geary paused. “There’s a lot riding on this. There’s somewhere I should go before then.”

“I’m on my way there, too.” They walked into the depths of Dauntless, to the most protected part of the ship, where the rooms set aside for religious purposes rested. Desjani bade him farewell at the door to one room, her eyes searching his for a moment before the privacy door closed.

He sat down on the traditional wooden bench in his own room. He wondered for the first time from which world the wood had come. So many worlds had trees or similar vegetation, and humanity had brought many plants with them on their long march through the vastness of space. Geary lighted the single candle, then sat watching the flame for a while. It was hard to put his many emotions into words, but finally he spoke softly. “I’m not asking for success for me, but for all of those who are counting on me. Please help me end this, and if my fate is to die on this mission, please see Tanya Desjani safely to her home again.”

Half an hour later he was on the bridge of Dauntless along with Desjani as the fleet, divided into three subformations and arrayed for battle, jumped for Atalia.