The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian

by Jack Campbell

  How do I say the rest? “I want to offer my personal assurances to all of you that I will make every effort to look out for you, to ensure that when we return home, you are treated as you deserve after your service to the Alliance.” That isn’t enough. Of course I’m going to look out for all who have served under me. That’s my responsibility. But I can’t promise there will be no problems once we return. What else do I say to let them know I won’t abandon them?

  Oh, hell. Just say that. “We did not leave anyone behind anywhere in alien space. No one will be left behind after we return home.”

  He ended the recording, then called the bridge. “Tanya, could you look over something for me?”

  “You mean since I have nothing else to do but oversee a battle cruiser and her crew?” Desjani asked.

  “It won’t take much time,” Geary promised.

  “Gee, I’ve never heard that one before. All right, Admiral. Will you be coming to the bridge soon?” she added pointedly.

  He glanced at the time. “I’ll be up there in a while. There’s no rush, is there?”

  “No, of course not,” Desjani agreed.

  Neither of them knew exactly when things would begin happening. There were too many uncertainties about travel times within the other star systems a certain ship had been transiting. But sometime within the next twelve hours, the plan proposed by General Drakon’s representatives would either succeed or fail.

  Geary made a show of wandering up to the bridge of Dauntless. He stopped several times to talk with members of the crew. Most of them asked variations on “when are we leaving?” He replied with variations on “soon.”

  On the bridge, Desjani nodded to him, gesturing to her display. “Good update, Admiral. Do you want to send it?”

  “You don’t have any suggestions for improvements?” Geary asked as he took his seat and called up his own display showing the situation in this star system.

  “Nope. This is one of those times when unedited words from the heart are best.”

  “Then please transmit it to the fleet, Captain.”

  “Certainly, Admiral.”

  “Anything new from CEO Boyens today?”

  She made a gesture of indifference. “Just another complaint about provocative maneuvers on our part. He seems to feel threatened by the fact that you’ve moved so many warships to an orbit only ten light-minutes from the hypernet gate.”

  “And only eight light-minutes from his flotilla,” Geary said. “Did we send him the standard response that the authorities at Midway have given us freedom to maneuver within this star system?”

  “You’d have to ask our emissaries,” Desjani said, now disdainful.

  “I will,” Geary said. His annoyance with Boyens had been growing, as the Syndic CEO had sent repeated messages supposedly about negotiations but mainly containing thinly veiled derision of Geary’s inability to budge him from this star system.

  But while the Syndic flotilla had stubbornly held its position near the hypernet gate, the Alliance presence near that gate had grown to include seven battleships and eleven battle cruisers, along with dozens of heavy and light cruisers and eighty destroyers. Few of those warships were in perfect condition, but all of them had the propulsion, shielding, and weapons if necessary to go on the attack. Geary had designated them Formation Alpha and arranged them into a single, giant fist aimed toward Boyens’s Syndic flotilla.

  As the Alliance warships took up position, Kommodor Marphissa had taken the remaining warships of the Midway flotilla out and around, forming a small pocket of defense that still blocked any movement by the Syndic flotilla toward the star and also further limited possible movement by the Syndics by threatening their route toward the nearest jump point.

  “He’s got to know what we’re doing,” Desjani commented, her posture and tone of voice now that of someone who did not expect anything to happen today that hadn’t happened yesterday and the day before. “Boyens isn’t stupid, even if he is a Syndic CEO.”

  “He thinks we’re trying to bluff him into leaving,” Geary said.

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing?” she asked with exaggerated innocence.

  If he had been drinking something, he might have choked on it at that moment. Fortunately, any need for a reply was eliminated a second later.

  “Another ship has arrived at the gate,” Lieutenant Castries said, her voice perking up as the identity of the new arrival became clear. “It’s the heavy cruiser belonging to Midway that escorted that other cruiser out through the jump point for Kane.”

  “He came back through the gate?” Lieutenant Yuon blurted out. “That’s—”

  “Not very bright,” Desjani said, still calm and composed. “They must have thought the Syndic flotilla would be gone. Look, they’re coming around and heading for the rest of the Midway flotilla.”

  “Not very fast,” Lieutenant Castries muttered. “Captain, fleet sensors estimate that the heavy cruiser has lost a main propulsion unit. No damage that we can see, so it might be an equipment failure.”

  “Syndic ships have much less onboard-repair capability than we do,” Desjani replied.

  “He’s in trouble,” Lieutenant Yuon confirmed. “Maneuvering systems estimate that with that much propulsion out, the Syndics will be able to catch him before the rest of the Midway flotilla can join with him.”

  “You sound perplexed, Lieutenant,” Desjani said. “Why?”

  “I . . .” Yuon licked his lips, then made a helpless gesture. “I sort of feel like they’re on our side, Captain. Even though that’s a Syndic cruiser. I mean, it used to be one.”

  “It’s not a Syndic cruiser,” Geary agreed. “The Syndics built it, but somebody else owns it now. And the cruisers that still answer to Syndic authority are going after it.” He didn’t need to rerun the maneuvering system’s conclusions. Even judging the movement of the ships on the display by eye, he could tell that the heavy cruisers and HuKs leaping away from the Syndic battleship would get within weapons range of the lone Midway heavy cruiser at least half an hour before it reached the company of the rest of the Midway flotilla.

  Geary tapped his comm controls. “All units in Formation Alpha, prepare for combat.”

  He could feel the startled stares of the rest of the bridge crew on him, even Desjani feigning surprise. With the exception of Desjani, they had no idea why he had given that order. Not yet. We can’t let the cat out of the bag quite yet.

  “Assume full combat readiness,” Desjani ordered her watch team. Alarms blared, summoning the entire crew to action stations, while Geary watched the movements of the other ships and judged the right time for his next communication. “Captain Desjani, I see that the Syndic cruisers and HuKs aiming to intercept that newly arrived Midway cruiser will be within weapons range of their target in eight minutes.”

  “That’s what our combat systems say,” Desjani confirmed.

  “Set me up for a transmission to the Syndic flagship.”

  The Syndic battleship with CEO Boyens aboard was eight light-minutes from Dauntless. The heavy cruisers and HuKs that had raced away from that battleship were now nearly a light-minute from the battleship and rapidly closing on the lone Midway cruiser at a high angle from above and behind. The Midway flotilla had surged into motion but was still several light-minutes away from where the Syndics were about to attack their lone comrade.

  Now. Geary tapped his controls again, choosing the one prepared for sending a message to CEO Boyens. He had assumed a puzzled and angry expression and spoke with the same mix of emotions. “CEO Boyens, this is Admiral Geary of the First Fleet of the Alliance. You have sent forces to intercept a ship chartered by and operating under the authority of the government of the Alliance. You are to cease any actions aimed at an Alliance-flagged ship and withdraw your forces immediately. Geary, out.” He deliberately left off the formal ending, giving the message an abrupt tone.

  The bridge crew was staring at him again, but their gazes shifted as Emissaries
Rione and Charban walked onto the bridge. “Admiral,” Rione said, as if genuinely surprised, “we chartered that ship for Alliance government business. Why are Syndicate warships pursuing it?”

  “I don’t know, Madam Emissary,” Geary replied. “I have informed the Syndics of the ship’s status and told them to veer off.”

  Desjani once again pretended to be startled. “We chartered that Midway cruiser? The Alliance government?”

  “That is correct,” Charban said. “We judged it to be in the interest of the Alliance that we be on good terms with the home star of that heavy cruiser.”

  “But if it’s under Alliance government charter, it is Alliance property during the period of the charter. If the Syndics attack it—”

  “They will be attacking an Alliance ship,” Geary broke in. “All units in Formation Alpha, immediate execute accelerate to point two light speed, come starboard three two degrees, up zero six degrees.”

  “You will have to act if they attack an Alliance ship,” Rione agreed, sounding as upset as if this had not all been arranged in advance.

  He had timed his message as well as possible. The Syndic heavy cruisers and HuKs had surely been sent out with orders to attack the lone Midway heavy cruiser. Having been humiliated once before, Boyens would be determined to ensure that this time his prey did not escape. They would launch that attack unless Boyens countermanded his earlier orders. But Geary had sent his message to Boyens so that it would arrive before the Syndic ships fired but too late for any message from Boyens to reach the Syndic attackers telling them not to fire. It was a simple matter of geometry, the three sides of the communications triangle adding up to less time than Boyens needed.

  CEO Boyens would be realizing that right about now. Geary found himself smiling at the thought of the Syndic CEO’s becoming very, very unhappy as he spotted, too late, the trap laid for him.

  “The Syndic heavy cruisers have launched missiles!” Lieutenant Castries said, as alarms from Dauntless’s combat systems accentuated her report.

  “CEO Boyens must have received your message before those ships fired,” Desjani said, the words going into the official record as she spoke them.

  “That’s right,” Geary agreed. “We have to assume that he has deliberately attacked an Alliance ship, and we have to make sure the Syndics don’t get away with such an act of aggression.” He tapped his comm controls again, this time pretending only anger. “CEO Boyens! Your forces have fired on a ship after you were informed that ship was operating under the Alliance flag! This is a hostile act, a clear violation of the peace treaty the Syndicate Worlds pledged to observe. Under the terms of that treaty, I am authorized to take all necessary measures to protect Alliance life and property. I will now do so and eliminate any threats to the Alliance within this star system! Geary, out!”

  Just to add to CEO Boyens’s headaches, the apparently crippled main propulsion unit on the lone Midway heavy cruiser suddenly came to life at full power, dramatically boosting the acceleration of the warship. “That,” Desjani observed, “will create some serious problems for the missiles the Syndics launched based on their earlier assumptions of the maximum acceleration that heavy cruiser could achieve.”

  “But they’ve still got two dozen missiles coming at them,” Geary said.

  “They’ll be all right,” Desjani said, her eyes on her display. “If they listen to Captain Bradamont. She’s aboard that heavy cruiser, isn’t she?”

  “Yes.” It had not been easy to arrange Bradamont’s transfer to the Syndic ship without her movement being detected, but routine resupply operations could mask a great deal of nonroutine activity. “Her presence on the heavy cruiser establishes clearly and legally that the ship is temporarily Alliance property. The authorities on Midway,” Geary added, “also assigned a Kapitan-Lieutenant Kontos to ride the cruiser while it was under Alliance charter.”

  “Kontos?” she asked. “Do we know him?”

  “He’s the one who thought up fastening the battleship to the mobile forces facility so it could tow that facility out of the path of the enigma bombardment,” Geary said.

  “Oh.” Desjani smiled knowingly. “And now Captain Bradamont can provide us with detailed observations about this Kapitan-Lieutenant who is such a quick and innovative thinker?”

  “That’s right,” Geary agreed.

  “Well done, Admiral.” She tapped her weapons controls. “We’ll be within range of Boyens in forty-five minutes if you hold us at point two light speed.”

  Geary nodded, gazing at his own display again. What will I do if Boyens doesn’t run? If he stands his ground? I’ll have to engage that battleship and take out the heavy cruisers, light cruisers, and HuKs escorting it. It’ll be a massacre, but they could still inflict damage on some of my ships, and when I get home, it’ll be a lot harder to explain annihilating a Syndic flotilla than it will be to explain chasing one away.

  Boyens had a limited period of time in which to act. Battleships excelled at firepower and armor, but not at acceleration. If Boyens wanted to avoid the Alliance attack, he would have to head for the hypernet gate soon enough to overcome the Alliance advantage in coming up to speed first.

  “The gate’s his only option,” Desjani commented. “If Boyens heads toward the only jump point he could reach before we could catch him, he’ll run right into that Midway flotilla.”

  “Isn’t that a lucky coincidence,” Geary said.

  “We need to keep after him,” Desjani added in a low voice. “Boyens isn’t going to enter that gate if he has any doubts that we might veer off. We need to stay on a firing run, maintaining our velocity, until his flotilla leaves. If we bobble at all, if we slow down, if we give him any reason to doubt our intent, he’ll veer away from the gate. Then we’ll have to destroy him.”

  “You’re right.” He had been trying to estimate when he could order his attack force to break off, but Desjani was correct. “He’ll cut it as fine as he possibly can, to see if we actually open fire.”

  “Count on having to open fire,” she said.

  “I hope you’re not right about that.”

  But as the minutes went by, Boyens’s flagship remained stubbornly in the same orbit. Geary checked the combat systems readouts, seeing the steady scrolling down to the time when the Syndic battleship would be within range of the weapons on the leading Alliance warships. One number for the specter missiles, another for hell-lance particle beams, a third time for the ball bearings called grapeshot used at close range, and finally a time for the very-close-range null-field generators carried by the Alliance battle cruisers and battleships.

  Desjani shook her head as she studied her display. “If he doesn’t start moving in the next five minutes, we’ll catch him before he reaches the gate.”

  Rione spoke from where she had come to stand on the other side of Geary. “Why hasn’t CEO Boyens tried to communicate with us?” she wondered. “Accused us of setting him up, tried to apologize, anything at all? Ah, I know.”

  “Do you feel like telling me?” Geary asked.

  “Certainly, Admiral.” Rione held out her open hand, palm up. “Syndic CEOs hold their positions through fear. Subordinates know they cannot cross their CEOs. But if a CEO is seen to be weak, subordinates will see wounded prey.”

  “And an apology, an attempt to deflect our attack, would make Boyens look weak.”

  “Extremely weak, as well as foolish.” Rione closed her hand into a fist. “He knows we set him up. To openly admit that he fell into a trap we set might drive the last nail into his coffin.”

  “Do you think he’ll stay and fight?”

  “That would be suicide.” She made an uncertain gesture. “But the price of failure here for him might be high, and his own anger at being humiliated might drive him to fight a hopeless battle. I don’t know.”

  “Two minutes left for him to start running,” Desjani said. “We need to see thrusters firing on those Syndics ships within the next thirty seconds to get them face
d on a course for the gate.”

  Thirty seconds to wonder if the cunning and twisted plot dreamed up by the rulers of Midway would blow up in everyone’s face. On the main inhabited world light-hours from the hypernet gate, President Iceni and General Drakon would not see what happened until a long time after it took place. Thirty seconds to wonder what they would think as they saw the same limited time rapidly running out. CEO Boyens must be angry, frustrated, knowing he was trapped, knowing that failure would be punished by his superiors in the Syndic hierarchy but knowing also that if he lost that battleship, the punishment would certainly be death. Thirty seconds to wonder if Boyens would choose to risk that rather than fail here.

  Ten seconds.

  Five.

  THREE

  “MANEUVERING thrusters firing on all warships in the Syndic flotilla,” Lieutenant Yuon called out. “Vectors changing toward hypernet gate.”

  “There you go,” Desjani said approvingly. “He’ll wait until the last possible second to cut in his main propulsion, too,” she predicted.

  “What if Boyens miscalculates?” Geary said.

  “Then we punch some holes in the hide of that battleship to remind him that he should allow a little larger margin for error in the future.” She smiled at him. “Right?”

  “Yeah. Whoever is driving our ‘chartered’ heavy cruiser is doing a good job.”

  The lone heavy cruiser had kept accelerating all out away from the pursuing Syndic cruisers and HuKs while twisting slightly to one side and down in order to put the oncoming missiles into the most difficult possible stern chase. Geary’s eyes went to where the Midway flotilla was swooping in from the side, aiming to intercept the heavy cruisers of the Syndic force that had gone after the lone cruiser. “They’re not faking this at all. They’re going to try to take out those Syndic warships.”