Lost Fleet 2 - Fearless

by Jack Campbell

  “I am a citizen of the Syndicate Worlds, living in prosperity and security thanks to the sacrifices of my leaders,” the sailor recited.

  Amazing. That little piece of nonsense the Syndics get drilled into them hasn’t changed in a century. But then how do you improve on something that simple and misleading? “Do you actually believe that?”

  “I am a citizen of the Syndicate Worlds—”

  “I heard the first time. What would it require to get you to question that? To do something about it?”

  She stared back at him, plainly terrified again. “I will not answer your questions.”

  Geary nodded. “I didn’t expect an answer. I’m just curious what it would take for someone like you to turn against a government that enslaves you and mistreats you.”

  The Syndic sailor stared back for a long while before speaking. “I have a home world to defend.” Another pause. “I have a family on that world.”

  Geary thought about that, then nodded again. Old motivations, but strong ones. Defend your home from foreign invaders. And keep your family safe from your own government. It had worked for countless totalitarian states throughout human history. For a while, anyway. “I’m going to tell you something. I don’t expect you to believe it, but I’ll tell you anyway. The Alliance doesn’t want to attack your world. It doesn’t want to cause harm to your family. No one in the Alliance is fighting because we fear our own government. Everyone in the Syndicate Worlds has the choice of continuing to support their leaders in this ugly war or calling for it to end on terms of mutual safety.”

  Her face had closed down like a true believer being told that her ancestors weren’t watching over her, but the Syndic sailor said nothing. Remaining silent in the face of authority even when you disagreed with it was doubtless a survival tactic in the Syndicate Worlds.

  Geary stood up. “Your ships fought bravely. I regret the fact that we had to destroy them. May our children meet in peace someday.” Those words finally drew a startled reaction, but the Syndic sailor just stared, not saying anything as Geary left the room.

  “You can’t talk them into working against their leaders,” the lieutenant commented. “We try. You’d think self-interest would motivate them.”

  Geary shook his head. “Lieutenant, if self-interest motivated humans, then you, I, and every other Alliance and Syndic soldier, sailor, and Marine would be sitting on a beach back on our home worlds drinking beer. For better or for worse, people believe in things they’ll fight for. In our case, better, in their case, worse.”

  “Yes, sir. But you planted an interesting seed there, sir. We didn’t realize how that would play out.”

  “What do you mean?” Geary asked.

  “She thinks you’re dead, and she thinks this fleet was destroyed. Did you see how scared she was? Her metabolic readings went sky high. She thinks that we’re a ghost fleet commanded by a ghost.” The lieutenant grinned. “That just might impact Syndic morale a bit.”

  “It might.” He studied the Syndic sailor through the one-way mirror. “What are the plans for her and the other prisoners?”

  “We’d been trying to decide. They don’t have any intelligence value. But if we can use them to spread rumors, that might benefit us,” the lieutenant said carefully, “perhaps we should…consider…releasing them.”

  “Do we still have their escape pods on board?”

  “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant seemed surprised that Geary hadn’t been outraged at his suggestion. “We searched the pods for anything of value that might have been brought off their ships, but there’s nothing worthwhile in them either.”

  Geary looked at the Syndic sailor, thinking that a few changes in events would have left him in her place. A century ago if the Syndics had picked up his pod after the battle. A few months ago if this fleet had been unable to run from the Syndic home system, the ships all destroyed, the crews captured. “All right, then. Here’s my orders. There wouldn’t be any sense anyway in hauling around Syndic prisoners of no value that we have to feed and guard and keep confined. I think you’ve made a very good suggestion. We can use these prisoners to our benefit. Make sure the other prisoners know who’s in command of this fleet. I’ll make personal appearances for any of them who don’t believe it. Then I want them returned to their escape pods and relaunched so they can land on one of the worlds in this system.”

  The lieutenant grinned. “Yes, sir. They’re going to be surprised.”

  “I like surprising the Syndics,” Geary noted dryly. “Don’t you?” The lieutenant smiled wider. “Make certain the pods have sufficient life support and fuel remaining to get those people home. They may need to be restocked. Have system checks run on them, too, to make sure nothing critical got broken by the energy release from the gate.” Intelligence types might not pay attention to that kind of detail if not reminded. “Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant hesitated. “This may not work, sir. And they’re not going to be grateful for being released. We may just end up fighting them again.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. A few sailors more or less shouldn’t make a big difference to the Syndic war effort.”

  “That’s true, sir.”

  “One other thing,” Geary added. “I could tell that you were reluctant to suggest this course of action to me. I want to know when the Intelligence section has ideas. If I don’t want to follow them, I’ll decide that after I’ve heard them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you never know, Lieutenant. On the one hand, those sailors may spread rumors that we’re all demons. On the other hand, we treated them decently. If enough Syndics learn that we’re not demons, maybe that will help, too.” He left, thinking that in a few more days the fleet could leave Sancere, having taken everything it could carry and destroyed everything it couldn’t. About a billion Syndic citizens would be looking up at the stars and breathing easier. They would also be worrying about the Alliance fleet possibly reappearing someday. That wouldn’t be possible, their leaders would assure them, but then it should have been impossible for the fleet to show up here even once. One way or another, this fleet had given a lot of Syndics a lot to think about.

  Of course, Syndic Force Alpha was still out there. Sooner or later, Geary was sure Force Alpha would try something. It couldn’t let the Alliance fleet leave without trying an attack of some kind, not if the CEO in charge of it wanted to keep his or her head on their shoulders.

  NINE

  “Syndic Force Alpha’s moving.” The warning from a Dauntless watch-stander came almost simultaneously with an alerting message from Alliance Formation Echo, which was currently charged with blocking any attack by the surviving Syndic flotilla.

  Geary rubbed his chin, studying the sightings coming in. The Syndic flotilla had been cruising along the outer edges of the star system for days now, watching from very long range as the Alliance fleet systematically looted supplies and repaired damage to its own ships. Now it had finally come around and begun accelerating toward the inner system. “Too early to tell where they’re aiming for.”

  “Yes, sir,” Captain Desjani agreed.

  “But even after the damage Task Force Furious inflicted, they’ve still got eight battleships and four battle cruisers.” Geary checked the display again. The two battle cruisers shot up by Task Force Furious had jumped out using different jump points over the last two days, doubtless going to notify the Syndic leadership that the Alliance fleet had shown up at Sancere and to call for reinforcements. One of the HuKs had also jumped out, heading for a third destination. It would be about a week’s transit time for all of them to their objectives, plus time to gather more warships, then a week back. More Syndics would be coming, but Geary planned to have the Alliance fleet long gone before they arrived. “Plus eight heavy cruisers and five HuKs. They outgun any one of our subformations, even though they don’t have nearly enough escorts.”

  He pondered the situation. The Syndics had been about three and a half light-hou
rs out from the star Sancere when they turned inward. Alliance Formation Echo was outside the orbit of the fifth world, only thirty light-minutes from the sun. The Syndics had been accelerating toward the inner system for three hours before any Alliance ship had seen them. Three hours’ time delay left a lot of room for as-yet-unseen changes.

  On the other hand, even if the Syndics ramped all the way up to .2 light, it would still take them at least fifteen hours to even reach the area where Alliance Formation Echo was located. If they were aiming at any other Alliance formation, the time required to intercept at even .2 light ranged from twenty hours to well over a day. Nothing was going to happen immediately. But eventually things would happen quickly.

  Don’t act too fast. But don’t put off acting, either. Do I want to stop all exploitation activity in this system to confront Syndic Force Alpha? But if I do, what’s to stop the Syndics from just racing through the system at .2 light or even higher? How long could they keep that up, denying me the chance to engage them and keeping my forces from continuing to loot the supplies we need? It would be the smartest thing they could do. Good thing they didn’t think of something like that sooner. “Captain Desjani. Assume the Syndics are planning to hit a smaller Alliance force, but will avoid action indefinitely if confronted with a larger force. What would you recommend?”

  She considered the question, gazing at her display. “We can try seeding mines in their path, but at the speeds we would need to be going to ensure intercepting their track, the odds of planting a decent minefield are pretty low.”

  “What about high-speed engagements? Could we manage to inflict much damage that way?”

  Desjani grimaced. “If they’re going point two light and we’re coming in fast to meet them? Then the combined velocities would be, maybe, point two five light to point three light or higher. The relativistic distortion would be ferocious. Even the tiniest errors in compensating for it would mean clean misses.”

  “So we have to slow them down to engagement speed and meet them with a more powerful force,” Geary concluded.

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Desjani suggested unhappily.

  Co-President Rione’s voice came from behind them. “Why do military minds always focus on one alternative?” Geary looked back at her. “The way to slow them down is to offer a target that seems attractive.”

  “I don’t care for sacrificing units that way,” Geary stated flatly, earning an emphatic nod of agreement from Desjani.

  Rione leaned forward. “You’re too honest in your thinking, Captain Geary. You, too, Captain Desjani. Make it a trap.”

  Geary exchanged a glance with Desjani as he spoke to Rione again. “What kind of trap?”

  “I’m not a military expert, Captain Geary. Surely you can think of something.”

  Desjani’s eyes had narrowed as she studied the display. “There might be a way.”

  “Even with the Syndics able to see everything we’re doing?” Geary asked.

  “Yes, sir. The trick would be making it look like we’re doing one thing when we’re actually planning another.”

  Rione nodded. “Yes. Excellent. Present one image to the enemy while keeping your true intentions hidden.”

  Geary kept his expression controlled while nodding back. Hearing Rione recommend that course of action was a little unsettling, given his doubts about her intentions toward him. “We can’t make the force we’ll use to bait the Syndics too powerful. They’ll spot that without fail.”

  “I am thinking,” Desjani stated slowly, “of a star named Sutrah.”

  Geary frowned at her, then his expression cleared. “That would be poetic justice, wouldn’t it?”

  In the end, it required an awesome amount of analysis for the maneuvering systems to come up with the movement plan needed to implement Desjani’s idea. All six Alliance fleet formations had to swing through space, in some cases trading ships that would follow their own tracks for a while, some of the ships and formations passing through certain small areas where the Syndics were judged most likely to transit given the movements of all of the Alliance ships, most particularly Alliance Formation Gamma. This all had to be done without making it apparent to the Syndics why they were moving in that particular way, and presenting a credible image of part of the Alliance fleet girding for an engagement with the Syndics while other portions tried to continue looting Syndic assets. Formation Gamma had to be maneuvered in such a way as to present an attractive target while looking like it was unaware of the fact that it was exposed to Syndic intercept if the Syndics altered course away from battle with the larger force being assembled to meet its current path.

  Captain Tulev’s battle cruisers had been joined by the fast fleet auxiliary Goblin, and were now to be dangled as the necessary bait even though Geary hated the idea of risking one of the auxiliaries. “They won’t bite without one of the auxiliaries in the target force,” Desjani had insisted, and Geary had reluctantly agreed.

  Now he stared at the intricate web of tracks his ships were to follow for a long moment before authorizing the orders to be sent. “All units. Maneuvering orders to follow. Every unit must carry out these orders exactly as sent.”

  It was far too complex to pass by voice. The detailed orders went out to all ships, and at the ordered times they began moving, though with the time delays involved in seeing his widely scattered formations, Geary had plenty of time to worry about whether everyone was acting as ordered. It was the sort of thing no human or command staff could have put together or executed. Without the substantial superiority in ships that Geary had over Syndic Force Alpha, it wouldn’t even have been possible.

  Now he sat, watching the ships move at various distances and time delays, as the Syndics pressed onward toward the inner system.

  “You’ll be exhausted if you stay up here until the battle,” a voice murmured.

  Geary roused himself and looked back at Rione. “I know. But this entire thing depends on everyone doing what they’re told.”

  “And if they don’t,” she replied, “you won’t even see it until some time after they didn’t. Watching makes no difference. Get some rest.”

  He gave Desjani a glance. Dauntless’s commanding officer was catnapping in her command chair. Geary envied her the ability to do that. He checked his display again. If the Syndics kept on their current track, they would be approaching engagement range in eight hours. If they slowed or turned, engagement range to any other Alliance formation would be at least ten hours. Engagement time to Formation Gamma, if the Syndics had already turned, was ten and half hours. Rione is right. I’m an idiot to stay up here. “I’m going below for a while,” Geary informed the watch-standers on the bridge. “Please inform me immediately if any ship deviates from their ordered tracks or if we spot changes in the Syndic track.”

  He stood, looking at Rione. “How about you?”

  She shook her head, looking past him. “I don’t want any rumors about the way you spend your time preparing for battle, Captain Geary,” Rione said in a very soft voice. “You’re going down to sleep. Do it.”

  “Yes, Madam Co-President,” Geary responded. “You’re not going to stay up here the whole time, are you?”

  She shook her head. “In a while I’ll go to my stateroom.”

  That would surely be remarked, Geary knew, by the many eyes that just happened to notice such things. He also knew Rione was right about it looking bad if his fleet believed Geary was enjoying himself while battle loomed. “Okay. I’ll see you back here in a while.”

  This time Rione nodded. “I confess I feel partly responsible if this plan doesn’t work. I suggested it, in a way.”

  “You did. But I approved it. It’s my responsibility. No one else’s.”

  Rione looked straight into his eyes. “John Geary, I’ve had moments of wondering if I should’ve succumbed to my feelings for you, if I shouldn’t rather have kept my distance for the sake of the Alliance and for my own long-term happiness. Statements s
uch as that reassure me.”

  There didn’t seem any good, simple answer to that, so Geary nodded to her and smiled. He left the bridge, taking a meandering path to his stateroom so he could be seen by the crew of Dauntless, stopping at a few places to speak with the crew and repeat the now-familiar lines about his certainty that they would defeat the Syndics in this battle, that the fleet would get home safely, and that he was proud to serve with them. No matter how false he sometimes felt about promising the first two things, Geary always knew the last statement was true. Knowing that helped him sleep when he finally got to his stateroom, though he was surprised to discover that the absence of Victoria Rione from his bed already felt noticeable.

  He woke to his communications alert, seeing that six hours had passed. “Geary here.”

  “We’ve spotted Syndic Force Alpha maneuvering, sir. They’re heading for Formation Gamma.”

  The bait had been taken. “I’ll be up there in a few minutes.”

  There had been a lot of options for the Syndic flotilla as it charged into the inner system. Too many to produce any meaningful prediction of what particular spots in space it would pass through. The Alliance plan had been aimed at luring the Syndics into a particular course of action, in this case an attack on a smaller formation that appeared to have accidentally been left out of supporting range of the rest of the fleet. As Geary settled into his seat on the bridge of the Dauntless and checked the display, he saw the probability cone for the Syndics’ course still had a huge diameter at its base where the Syndic flotilla had just changed course. But that cone necked down inexorably toward a tight channel near the track of Alliance Formation Gamma, which the Syndics would have to traverse if they wanted to engage the ships in Gamma. Beautiful. If they do it, we’ve got them. If they decide not to hit Gamma, then those ships will be safe. Either way we’ve won except for some wasted ordnance.