Courageous

by Jack Campbell

  “DAMN.” Three more Alliance battle cruisers had just exploded.

  Geary killed the simulation with an irritable punch of the controls. The tactic he’d tried had seemed a little crazy, and apparently it really was. It certainly hadn’t worked worth a damn. Instead of reducing the risk to his battle cruisers, it had led to them being pinned between superior Syndic forces and blown apart. Granted, the simulation might have smarter Syndic commanders than the Alliance fleet would actually encounter, but officers Geary had once known and respected a century ago had warned him never to base his plans on the assumption that the enemy was stupid. A clever trap worked far better than one that assumed the enemy was too dumb to see the obvious. Now all I need is a clever trap.

  His hatch chimed to announce a visitor to Geary’s stateroom. Captain Desjani, saluting, her face professional. “We’re two hours from the jump point to Daiquon, sir. You asked to be informed.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t have to come down here in person to tell me.”

  Desjani shrugged, letting discomfort show. “You’re…reassuring, sir. Surely you’ve noticed how much the crew appreciates seeing you being so calm around the black hole. I assure you that word of that has spread to every ship in the fleet and helped keep everyone calm.”

  “Huh.” It seemed odd to be praised for not being spooked by a black hole. But Geary had found himself increasingly reluctant to view the thing himself, influenced by the superstitions of those around him. “Thanks, but I don’t mind telling you that I won’t miss this place.”

  “Not you and not anyone else in the fleet,” Desjani replied with a brief smile. “I’m sorry I disturbed you, sir.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I was just running a simulation that wasn’t going right.” Geary leaned back and sighed. “Sit down. I’d appreciate the chance to just talk about something other than tactics and strategy and Syndics and the war.”

  Desjani hesitated, then came in and sat down opposite Geary, sitting at attention the way she usually did when in his stateroom. “Those topics have dominated life in the Alliance for much longer than I’ve been alive,” she confessed. “I don’t know what we’d talk about if we didn’t have them.”

  “There are other things. Things that keep us going when the war seems to be all the universe contains.” Geary’s eyes rested on the still-distant stars of Alliance space. “What’ll you do when you get back to Kosatka, Tanya?”

  Desjani seemed startled by the question, her own gaze going to the starscape. “My home world,” she murmured. “I haven’t been back for a long time. There’s no guarantee I’ll get a chance even if—even when we get back.”

  “I understand. The war isn’t going to stop just because we make it home.” Geary sat silent for a moment. “Are your parents still there?” Are they still alive, he’d meant, but he wouldn’t phrase the question that bluntly.

  She knew what he meant, nodding. “They’re both there. My father works in a manufacturing plant supplying the orbital shipyards. Mother is part of the planetary defense forces.”

  A wartime economy, of course, even on a planet as far from the front lines of battle as Kosatka. What else could you expect after a century of war? “How do they feel about you being the captain of a battle cruiser?”

  Captain Tanya Desjani, hardened veteran of dozens of space battles, actually blushed and looked down. “They’re…proud. Very proud.” Her expression changed. “They knew the risks that being a fleet officer entailed. I’m sure they’ve been waiting for the notification that I died in battle ever since I went to my first ship. So far I’ve beaten the odds, and they’ve been spared that, but they may believe I’m dead now, along with the rest of the fleet.”

  That brought a grimace to Geary’s face. “Surely the Alliance government wouldn’t have told the population that? It’s not that the people don’t have a right to know, but governments tend to believe they have a right to lie about bad news.” He’d examined an official history of the war soon after assuming command of the fleet and discovered it contained a relentlessly positive and upbeat account, chronicling alleged victory after Alliance victory but remaining silent on the question of why such victories had yet to result in winning the war. Distressingly similar to the nonsense the captured Syndic merchant officer had told him, Geary realized. The government that wrote that history wasn’t likely to confess that its main fleet had disappeared behind enemy lines and had very likely been wiped out.

  “Certainly,” Desjani agreed, “but the Syndic propaganda broadcasts would’ve announced it. They jump automated broadcast units into border star systems and pump out as much of their lies as they can before our defense systems can destroy them.” Geary nodded, thinking that the Alliance probably did the same thing to broadcast its side of things to Syndic border star systems. “Officially,” Desjani continued, “no one’s supposed to repeat what they hear from the Syndics, but word gets around. Unlike Syndics, citizens of the Alliance can still express opinions and don’t believe everything their politicians say.” She shrugged, her expression grim. “My parents have surely heard that the Syndics are claiming our fleet was lost deep in Syndic space. They won’t believe the Syndics, but they won’t be too comforted by official Alliance government denials. They have to be worried.”

  “Sorry.” The single word was inadequate, but Geary couldn’t think of anything else for a moment. “I guess they’ll be doubly happy, then, when you come home.”

  Desjani grinned. “Yes. Oh, yes.” She gave Geary an almost shy glance. “And when my home world hears that their daughter’s ship carried Black Jack Geary himself, that he commanded the fleet from the bridge of my ship as he brought us home against all odds, they’ll be the most famous people on Kosatka, I’m sure.”

  Geary laughed to cover up his embarrassment. “I’ve thought about going to Kosatka once we get back.” The words Victoria Rione had once said came to him. Kosatka isn’t big enough to hold you, John Geary. “To visit, I mean.”

  “Really?” Desjani seemed awed.

  “I told you I was there once. A long time ago.” Geary managed not to slap his forehead in exasperation with himself. Very few things in his life didn’t fall under the heading of “a long time ago.” “I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”

  “I’m sure it’s changed, sir.”

  “Yeah. I guess I’ll need a guide.”

  Desjani hesitated. “We could, I mean, if you wanted to come along when I, that is—”

  “That’d be nice,” Geary replied. “Maybe I’ll do that.” Having a familiar face along, a known presence, might be a very good thing indeed. And he had already started to wonder how he would feel once he got this fleet home and walked away from it, having done his duty and more. Because what had once been a collection of strange ships and unknown people was increasingly becoming his fleet, populated by people he knew and in some cases liked and admired. Hell, after seeing the crews of Dauntless, Daring, and Diamond stand firm while the hypernet gate at Sancere collapsed, Geary had developed a fierce pride in the courage and dedication of these sailors. Did he really want to exchange that for the unknowns of a civilian world in which the worship of Black Jack Geary would be even harder to escape?

  Should he even be asking himself that question? He couldn’t remain in command of this fleet when it returned to Alliance space. It wasn’t just that he didn’t feel competent to the demands of the position; he feared that Victoria Rione might have been right when she spoke of the temptations he would face then. Black Jack Geary, mythical hero, back from the dead to save the Alliance, the fleet under his command. Anything he wanted could be his. He need only reach out and take it.

  “Sir?” Desjani asked, eyeing him curiously. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “What? No. I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else.” Geary smiled reassuringly again. “Let’s go to the bridge and get ready to say good-bye to Sendai.”

  Everyone on the bridge was studiously avoiding looking at the display where
the black hole dominated space. As Geary entered the bridge, he noticed everyone giving him those looks, hope and trust mingled together. Like Desjani, they apparently thought him a sort of talisman against whatever demon lurked inside the black hole.

  Too bad he didn’t have a talisman.

  An hour and a half until the fleet reached the jump point. Geary took a moment to order his thoughts, then tapped the controls so he could speak to the entire fleet. Once within jump space, communications would be extremely limited, with only messages a few words long able to be exchanged among ships. There were things he needed to say while the fleet was still in normal space. If space around a black hole could be called normal, that is.

  “All ships of the Alliance fleet, this is Captain Geary,” he began, speaking with deliberate calm. “We don’t know what awaits us at Daiquon. The Syndics didn’t expect us to come to Sendai, but they’ve surely figured out by now that we didn’t go to any of the other places reachable from Baldur. They may well guess Daiquon is a possible objective of ours in time to position forces using the advantage of their hypernet. I want all ships ready for battle when we leave jump space at Daiquon. We may face an immediate engagement, and if so I want whatever Syndic warships we encounter to get kicked into Daiquon’s sun so fast they’ll still be trying to figure out what happened.” He paused again, trying to think of the best ending for his transmission. “To the honor of our ancestors.”

  Then it was just a matter of waiting. Geary occupied the time going over fleet readiness data again. The auxiliaries had been manufacturing new fuel cells and expendable weapons at a furious pace, as if the engineers were determined to make up for the errors that had led to shortages of trace elements. Even without those new items, the fleet’s warships were in good shape for an engagement if the Syndics were waiting at Daiquon. Except for Orion, Majestic, and Warrior, of course. But most of the damage that Captain Tulev’s battle cruisers had sustained at Sancere had been repaired now, and Leviathan, Steadfast, Dragon, and Valiant were fully combat-ready again.

  If the Syndics were waiting at Daiquon, this fleet was ready for them.

  “Captain Geary”—Desjani broke into his train of thought—“the fleet has reached the jump point for Daiquon.”

  “Good. Let’s get the hell out of here.” He tapped the communications controls again. “All ships in the Alliance fleet, jump for Daiquon now.”

  As the fleet entered jump space and the black hole named Sendai vanished, the feeling of relief that ran through Dauntless was so powerful that Geary could have sworn the ship itself sighed with satisfaction.

  Four days and a few hours to Daiquon. Victoria Rione managed to avoid him the entire time, so Geary spent his time working on more simulations, watching his battle cruisers explode and getting steadily more frustrated in every sense of the word.

  THE Syndics were at Daiquon.

  Right in front of the jump point.

  Staring at the enemy ship symbols popping into existence on the star system display, Geary first focused on two battleships and two battle cruisers, apparently tracking across the front of the jump point.

  “They’re laying mines!” Desjani warned.

  And the path of the Alliance fleet would sweep partly across areas where those mines had already been laid. Geary did the maneuvering solution in his head. “All units in the Alliance fleet. Immediate execute, turn starboard four zero degrees, up two zero degrees.” Turning toward the watch-standers, he snapped out another order. “Get a minefield marker displayed along the track those Syndic ships must have followed!”

  Four major warships. Geary’s eyes raced across the display, adding up the rest of the Syndic force. Three heavy cruisers, five light cruisers, a dozen Hunter-Killers. Probably sent here to lay mines in front of the jump points and then leave a few light units behind to report if the Alliance fleet passed through the system. Instead, they’d been caught in the middle of laying the minefield. The Syndic warships weren’t a major threat to the Alliance fleet, not if he had time to set up an engagement. But the fleet was right on top of the Syndic warships, both formations tangling in a melee without time to plan or execute a careful plan of action. “All ships, engage nearest Syndic warships.”

  A squadron of destroyers had emerged from the jump point almost in the laps of the two Syndic battleships. The light warships swung away frantically, firing their few weapons, which sparkled futilely against the massive shields of the enemy battleships. The Syndic battleships fired back, their heavy armament shredding through the light shields of the destroyers and into the little armor the destroyers boasted. Kheten exploded under the barrage, and Epee was torn apart, its pieces tumbling away.

  The only thing that saved the rest of the destroyers in the squadron was the arrival of a squadron of Alliance light cruisers, flashing out of jump space and right into the arms of the Syndic battleships. The battleships greedily shifted fire to the new targets, ripping Glacis into fragments and smashing Aegis and Hauberk.

  But now the heavy cruisers and battle cruisers of the Alliance fleet had reached the Syndic battleships, bearing shields heavy enough to engage the enemy and enough firepower to instantly shift the odds drastically against the Syndics.

  Six of the Syndic Hunter-Killers had been escorting the battleships, and now five of them blew apart as a swarm of Alliance destroyers swept past the battleships and targeted their lighter counterparts. The last HuK tried to run but had no time to accelerate away before being pounded into scrap. Two light cruisers tried to hide behind the battleships but were pinned between three divisions of Alliance heavy cruisers and smashed. The single Syndic heavy cruiser with the battleships found itself facing Tulev’s battle cruiser division and blew up after a single volley from the big Alliance warships.

  “First, Second, and Fourth Battle Cruiser Divisions,” Geary ordered. “Disregard Syndic battleships and engage the enemy battle cruisers and their escorts.” He scanned the display, trying to figure out who else to order where. “Second, Fifth, and Seventh Battleship Divisions, get the Syndic battleships. All heavy cruisers attempt to engage the surviving Syndic escorts around the enemy battle cruisers. All lighter Alliance units engage targets of opportunity.” It amounted less to tactics than to simply trying to overwhelm the enemy forces as fast as possible, but that seemed the best option at the moment.

  And he also had to ensure against the Syndics trying a desperate counterblow. “Eighth and Tenth Battleship Divisions, guard the auxiliaries division. Make sure nothing gets through to them.” He didn’t know if all of those battleships would obey the command in the heat of battle, but if even a few did, it would provide necessary insurance.

  Eleven Alliance battle cruisers swung their bows around and accelerated toward the two Syndic battle cruisers, followed by a tangle of heavy cruiser divisions mixed in with light cruisers and destroyers. “Accelerate to point one light,” Captain Desjani ordered. “Up one five degrees, port zero four degrees. All weapons target the leading Syndic battle cruisers. Prepare to fire specters.”

  At the same time, the eleven Alliance battleships of the Second, Fifth, and Seventh Divisions bore down on the Syndic battleships. Geary saw the two surviving and combat-ready battleships of the Fourth Division also come around and swing toward the enemy battleships but didn’t try to order them away. Vengeance and Revenge owed the Syndics for the loss of Triumph at Vidha and the terrible damage suffered by Warrior at the same battle.

  Thirteen battleships tore into the Syndic battleships, the range too short to fire specter missiles. Instead, several of the closest Alliance ships hurled out grapeshot, the metal ball bearings slamming into enemy shields and vaporizing from the impacts. Then all of the Alliance battleships unleashed their hell-lance batteries from three sides, causing the weakened shields of the Syndic battleships to flare and collapse almost instantly. The hell lances then punched through armor and into the guts of the Syndic ships, tearing holes through which gusts of atmosphere vented as the enemy ships shuddere
d under the blows.

  Vengeance and Revenge ripped past at close range, firing their short-range null-field projectors. The glowing balls of the null fields met the hulls of the Syndic ships, causing atomic bonds to fail everywhere they passed. Sections of the enemy battleships vaporized inside the null fields, opening huge wounds in their hulls.

  The two Syndic battle cruisers could have tried to run as the Alliance battle cruisers bore down on them, but their commander apparently hesitated. The brief delay doomed both ships. “Fire specters,” Desjani ordered. As Dauntless fired a volley of missiles, the other Alliance battle cruisers followed suit, sending a flock of the autonomous missiles accelerating toward the enemy battle cruisers.

  The Syndics fired back, the surviving HuKs, light cruisers, and heavy cruisers placing themselves between the battle cruisers and the onrushing Alliance missiles. Despite their evasive maneuvers, speed, and stealth, a lot of specters flared and died short of their targets. But by concentrating their fire on the specters, the Syndic ships let the lighter Alliance ships close to firing range.

  HuKs flared and burst under the fire of Alliance destroyers and light cruisers, while the three Syndic light cruisers were riddled by fire from the heavy cruisers accompanying the Alliance battle cruisers.

  Then the Alliance battle cruisers reached engagement range for their hell lances. The leading battle Syndic cruiser seemed to glow as its shields absorbed hit after hit; then the shields collapsed and the hell lances began ravaging the ship itself.

  Geary held his breath, trying not to betray his concern as Desjani led Dauntless, Daring, and Victorious in a close pass against the stricken Syndic battle cruiser, firing null fields as they raced past. Here I was worried about risking any battle cruisers, and I’m throwing them into the thick of a battle, led by the one battle cruiser that I can’t afford to lose. If we lose Dauntless, we lose the Syndic hypernet key it carries. I have to come up with a solution to this problem.

  Not that the leading Syndic battle cruiser was a threat anymore. The null-field hits on top of the torrent of hell-lance fire had riddled the warship and left it a drifting wreck from which survival pods were bursting spasmodically as the surviving crew tried to find safety.