The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Steadfast

by Jack Campbell

  Desjani gave him a sidelong look. “Lieutenant Castries and Lieutenant Yuon are professionals. They are carrying out their duties without regard to any personal emotions created by past developments.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Of course, I also told them each separately that if there was any drama on the bridge, I would crack heads so hard they’d both end up back in sick bay. But I think they’re doing all right now that it’s over. Say, mind if I borrow that green-haired lieutenant while we’re in jump? I’d like her to take a look at the books in Master Chief Gioninni’s division.”

  “I want her to be able to get some sleep,” Geary said.

  “Sleep? This is the fleet. Sleep is for wimps, right?” Desjani loudly asked of the bridge.

  “Yes, Captain!” the watch-standers chorused back at her.

  “Sometimes,” Geary said, “I can’t tell whether or not you’re joking.”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper as she leaned toward him. “Sometimes,” Desjani said with a grin, “neither can they.”

  • • •

  JUMP space was never a particularly restful place. You could get physical rest, but mental relaxation grew harder with every day in a place so strange that humans had no right to be there. As the old saying went, the longer a ship stayed in jump space, the jumpier the crew got. For Geary, the worst part was usually the itchiness, a day-by-day growing sense that his skin no longer fit properly.

  But this time it felt worse in some small and indefinable ways. One thing he could identify was odder-than-usual dreams because the same one repeated during the days en route Atalia.

  He dreamed he was indeed out in jump space, alone, surrounded by the gray nothingness that filled whatever jump space really was. Panic began to set in, but before it could overwhelm him, the lights emerged.

  No one knew what the lights that appeared randomly in jump space were. Scientific theories abounded, all lacking in evidence or any form of proof. Metaphysical theories were fewer, simpler, and equally impossible to prove or disprove. The vast majority of sailors believed that the lights were linked to their ancestors and to the living stars. Beyond that, exactly what the lights meant or signified was just as mysterious to believers as it was to nonbelievers.

  When Geary had been awakened from his century in survival sleep, he had been told that many believed he had been among the lights all of those decades, communing with the ancestors. He would have liked to categorically deny that, but couldn’t since he had no memories from his time frozen in space.

  Now, in these dreams, as he drifted alone in jump space and fought against panic, he saw the lights appear. But they didn’t come alone. They appeared in clusters, they flashed off and on, they seemed to be almost forming a picture. A pattern. And then . . . he awoke, to stare at the darkened overhead in his stateroom with the feeling that something very important had been almost within his reach but had vanished in an instant, leaving nothing behind but memories of a dream he couldn’t understand at all.

  • • •

  GEARY greeted their arrival at Atalia with more relief at leaving jump space than usual. As Lieutenant Iger had said, very little had changed here. Atalia, like Batara, had been a front-line star system fought over during the war. It had been among the first star systems to rebel against the Syndics and had quickly requested Alliance protection.

  However, an Alliance reluctant to fund protection for even its own territory in the wake of the war had no interest in taking on responsibility for a battered star system that had recently been enemy territory. The Alliance’s sole commitment to the protection of Atalia was a single courier ship hanging near the jump point for Varandal. If Atalia was attacked, the Alliance would know it.

  But the Alliance hadn’t actually promised to do anything with that knowledge.

  “We’re just passing through,” Geary told the crew of the courier ship. “We’ll be back soon.”

  He sent a similar message to the government of Atalia, which technically had to approve the Alliance task force’s transit of its star system. In practice, Atalia wouldn’t do anything to offend the Alliance and actually welcomed any presence by Alliance warships as a deterrent to attempts by the Syndic government to regain control of the star system.

  From Atalia they had to jump through Kalixa, which had once had its own hypernet gate. But the enigmas had caused that gate to collapse, wiping out the human presence at Kalixa and rendering the once-habitable main world a lifeless wreck, hoping that the Syndics would blame the Alliance for the atrocity and begin making the gates in Alliance star systems collapse. The plan had almost worked.

  Geary took the task force through Kalixa as quickly as possible. The Dancer ships stayed close to the Alliance ships, not following their usual practice of zooming off to whirl around each other in the graceful movements that among humans had earned the aliens the nickname Dancers. Geary wondered if the ruined star system of Kalixa marked some sort of mar in the patterns the Dancers valued, something that unsettled them, but Charban’s attempts to ask the Dancers about that produced no replies understandable to the humans.

  From Kalixa, they finally jumped into a star system still controlled (when last heard) by the Syndics. Indras was fairly well-off, fairly wealthy as star systems went, far enough from Alliance space to have taken relatively little damage during the war, and possessed the working Syndic hypernet gate that Geary needed.

  The few, minor Syndic warships present avoided getting anywhere near Geary’s ships as they thundered through the star system on the fastest route to the hypernet gate. The two Syndic light cruisers and five HuKs, some still bearing scars of combat not so long ago, showed no interest in confronting the Alliance Task Force in any way. But the senior CEO in the star system was not so circumspect.

  “We must protest this violation of Syndicate Worlds space by an armed expedition of the Alliance,” CEO Yamada declared. Yamada, with his impeccably tailored suit, perfectly coifed hair, and well-practiced expressions designed to conceal any real emotions, looked like almost every other CEO that Geary had encountered. Judging by his girth and other signs of rich living, Yamada had also not personally suffered much during the war. “You are to cease aggressive actions against the Syndicate Worlds and vacate Syndicate space immediately. Forthepeople, Yamada, out.”

  “Yeah, he’s for the people,” Desjani commented sarcastically. “Are you going to bother answering?”

  “Just with the standard legalities. But not yet. And apparently there are some intelligence reports I need to know about.”

  “About Indras? Why didn’t they brief you before we got here?

  “Ask the people who make up the rules the intelligence community has to follow. They’re probably the only ones who understand whatever logic is involved.”

  A few hours later, Lieutenant Iger briefed Geary in his stateroom. “Thank you for taking the time for this, Admiral.” He brought up some images of individuals, star systems, and businesses, all connected by various colored strands. “This is the best picture we have at this time of Syndic covert operations in this region against the Alliance and their own rebellious star systems.”

  The point of Iger’s presentation wasn’t hard to grasp. “It looks like Indras is at the center of a lot of that.”

  “Yes, sir. We can’t tie CEO Yamada specifically to what is going on. He may not personally even know about some of the things being done by the central government, but it’s likely he knows about some of it. A lot of covert activity is being coordinated through Indras.”

  Geary hunched forward a bit, resting his elbows on the table and gazing at the interrelationships and activities being shown. “Is there anything I can do about this? Is there anything I’m supposed to be doing about it?”

  “No, sir,” Iger said with a regretful shake of his head. “This briefing is for informational purposes only. We are at peace with the
Syndics. Alliance military forces can’t just launch open attacks on the basis of evidence like this which can’t even be shown to the average person. As for other alternatives, we don’t have the sort of proof that could be presented in any court, and there aren’t any courts that would handle this sort of thing between the Syndics and the Alliance anyway.”

  “Is anybody else doing anything?”

  Iger hesitated, then spoke slowly. “Admiral, I can’t say.”

  “As in you don’t know, or you do, and I’m somehow not cleared for it?” Geary tried to keep from sounding angry and accusing. It wouldn’t be Iger’s fault if the matter was out of his hands, so Iger shouldn’t be personally held to account.

  “I don’t honestly know anything, sir,” Lieutenant Iger protested. “I’ve heard rumors that counteroperations are under way, but nothing specific and nothing official.”

  “Counteroperations? Aimed at what’s going on here?”

  “Vague rumors, sir. That’s all I have.”

  “I hope that’s all they are,” Geary said. “Because it would look very suspicious to everyone if something blew up in this star system while we were here or soon after we left.” He wanted to add that surely no one would plot covert actions that, by their timing and placement, would imply Geary’s ships were involved, at the very least not without warning him, but recent experience with the government’s mania for secrecy left him with no confidence on that count. “Let me know if anything else comes in that relates to this.”

  Geary waited almost another day, until the Alliance warships and the Dancer ships were almost to the hypernet gate, before he called up the Syndic CEO’s message again and tapped the reply command. “CEO Yamada, this is Admiral Geary. We are permitted by the terms of the peace agreement with the Syndicate Worlds to transit Syndicate space to and from the Midway Star System, and to make use of the Syndicate Worlds’ hypernet system when we do so. We will continue to operate in accordance with our rights under the peace agreement. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”

  “They probably already knew we were going to Midway,” Desjani said.

  “The longer we could keep them guessing, the better. Let’s get out of Indras before the Dancers decide to go sightseeing.” Or something blows up, he added to himself.

  To his relief, the stolen hypernet key dialed up Midway without any problems, and a moment later they were safe inside the nowhere of the hypernet.

  • • •

  THE hypernet allowed Geary’s ships to cover the distance to Midway in a few weeks, a voyage that would have required several months if conducted by jumping from star to star. Oddly enough, even though the other discomforts of jump space weren’t present, Geary had the same dream a couple of more times, ending in the same frustrating fashion. Whether it was his subconscious or something else trying to send him a message, the meaning of it wasn’t coming through.

  As the Alliance ships left the hypernet, the stars reappeared around them, and displays began updating with the newest information. “It sounds like they’ve been busy around here,” Lieutenant Iger reported. “Lots of comm traffic, official and unofficial.”

  “Anything bad?” Geary asked. “There’s a battle cruiser here. Whose is it?”

  “We’re trying to ID it, Admiral. Wait. We’re picking up references to Pele.”

  “That’s the next star system toward the enigmas,” Geary said with more patience than he felt.

  “No, sir. I mean, yes, sir,” the intelligence officer corrected hastily. “This Pele is a ship. It looks like it correlates to that battle cruiser.”

  “The Syndics don’t name their ships,” Desjani said.

  “No, but the Midway people do,” Geary said. “To emphasize that they’re not Syndics anymore. Where did they get a battle cruiser?”

  “No idea, Admiral,” Iger said. “It sounds like there are civil disturbances on the primary inhabited world. Rioting. The government is trying to deal with it.”

  “How are they dealing with it?” Geary asked, his voice flat. There were Syndic ways of handling riots and rioters, and the rulers here had been Syndics not long ago.

  “I can’t determine that yet, sir.”

  “Hey!” Desjani’s startled exclamation drew Geary’s attention. “The Dancers just took off!”

  Took off was putting it mildly. The alien ships had dashed away from the Alliance formation at the strongest acceleration they could manage, a rate of increase in velocity that even the Alliance battle cruisers couldn’t match. “They’re heading for the jump point for Pele. General Charban!”

  “Here, Admiral,” Charban replied from the compartment where he and Lieutenant Jamenson were once again seated at their comm gear. “I just received a message from the Dancers. Watch the many stars.”

  “The many stars? What does that—? Sorry.” For once, Geary avoided asking a question that he already knew Charban had no answer to. He stopped to think as he watched the Dancers tear away. “I guess they’re going home as fast as possible.”

  “I concur,” Charban said. “I’ll try to get more out of them before they leave.”

  “Thanks. If—”

  “We just got another message from the Dancers,” Charban interrupted, looking startled. “It says until next time, see you later, good-bye for now.”

  Tanya raised both eyebrows. “They’re not taking any chances that we won’t understand that.”

  “No, they’re not,” Charban agreed. “They want us to know that they will be back.”

  “Do they expect us to wait here?” Geary demanded, exasperated.

  “I don’t—” Charban began, then paused again. “Another message. You go your home. See you there. Admiral, I don’t know why the Dancers have suddenly shifted from vague ambiguities to clear meaning, but I have no doubt that they mean exactly what these messages say. They are not mistakenly saying something we might misinterpret. They want us to go home, and they want us to know they will come back and meet us there.”

  “How are they planning on getting back through Syndic space?” Desjani wondered.

  “How did they get to Durnan in the first place to plant that colony long ago?” Charban asked.

  Geary made a helpless gesture. “We’ll have to take the Dancers at their word. There’s nothing in this star system that can catch them or hurt them before they reach that jump point.”

  “Something might come out of the jump point,” Desjani suggested.

  “Yeah. That’s true. We’ll hang around the hypernet gate until the Dancers jump and we know they’re out of human space, then we’ll head home.” The Dancers themselves obviously didn’t feel that the Alliance had any further obligations to escort and protect them, but Geary still felt a sense of responsibility toward them. He wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving Midway until the Dancers had.

  As the hours went by, the Dancers racing toward the jump point for Pele while the Alliance warships orbited near the hypernet gate, Lieutenant Iger’s people were able to build up a picture of events at Midway that was only slightly reassuring. “They haven’t started shooting at the protesters yet, and I haven’t detected any orders for the local warships to move into position for precision bombardments. A lot of the ground forces seem to be missing, and there are references to General Drakon’s being gone from the star system.”

  “Do you have any idea where he is?” Geary asked, remembering the stolid general who had seemed glad to shed the trappings of a Syndic CEO.

  “There are a couple of mentions of Ulindi, a nearby star system.”

  It was odd how someone having a dozen battle cruisers at his beck and call could feel powerless, Geary thought as he watched the Dancers dart away too fast to be caught up with and viewed images of events in Midway Star System that were hours old by the time he saw them. “At the rate the Dancers are going,” Desjani said, “their total transit time to the
jump point for Pele will be less than twenty hours. They’re moving faster than sailors heading for the liberty shuttle.”

  “Is their return that urgent?” Geary asked. “Or are they hurrying because they know we can’t leave until we know they have?”

  “Or are they just sick and tired of us ugly humans?” Desjani added.

  “I’m going to get some sleep,” Geary said as he realized that he had been on the bridge for more then seven hours straight. “There’s nothing anywhere near us and nothing I can do. When something does happen, I want my mind to be a little rested. If I’m not back in six hours, give me a call.”

  He made a futile effort to sleep, staring up at the overhead from his bed, before eventually calling up some paperwork. But this time not even routine paperwork on the most soul-deadening of topics could make him drowsy.

  Geary returned to Dauntless’s bridge, noting that it had been thirteen hours since arrival in this star system. “Anything new?”

  “How did you know?” Desjani asked. “We just got a message from that woman who calls herself president. I was reaching to call you when you showed up.”

  For someone who had cities full of rioters, alien spaceships on the edges of her star system, and a large force of warships present belonging to an Alliance that had until recently been her bitter enemy, President Iceni appeared remarkably calm and confident. Geary was certain that it was an act, which made it all the more impressive to him.

  “Admiral Geary, my friend, I am hoping it is you who have returned to this star system,” President Iceni began. “We are currently undergoing some minor domestic disturbances, which I regret to say are occupying my full attention. General Drakon is at Ulindi, assisting the people there in throwing off the chains of the Syndicate. You will be pleased to hear that your Captain Bradamont has proven to be an exceptionally valuable resource in our attempts to both defend this star system and create a more stable system of governance for it. I regret that she is currently aboard our battleship Midway, which is also at Ulindi and cannot speak to you directly. I assure you that she is both safe and highly respected by the officers and specialists of our military forces.