Lost Fleet 1 - Dauntless

by Jack Campbell

  Something like hell-lances was being fired from the Syndic base, flaying the wreckage but unable to divert enough of it, and while the Syndic fire concentrated on the wreck of the lead merchant, the next in line, its engines still pushing it ever faster, came even with the debris of the first. Geary felt his jaws tighten as the Syndic close-in defenses shifted their fire to the still-intact merchant, though to what purpose he couldn’t imagine. The installation was obviously doomed. He hoped the defenses were on automatic and no personnel had been left to die in a futile attempt to save the orbital facility.

  Minutes later, the second merchant slammed into one side of the Syndic installation, shattering a large section into fragments of junk. The remains of the ship itself, also reduced to junk by the collision, bounced off and kept going.

  On its heels, the huge cloud of wreckage from the former lead merchant started impacting. Geary stared, fascinated despite himself, as the Syndic orbital base staggered under repeated impacts, its whole structure warping and breaking as hundreds of tons of matériel rammed into it at very high speed. It looked oddly as if the Syndic base was dissolving under the impacts as the wave of debris tore it apart. The view shifted as the optics on the Dauntless followed the installation’s movement. Under the force of the blows from the wreckage, the remains of the Syndic base were being shoved out of orbit, reeling farther and farther away from the planet it had both protected and menaced for who knew how long. The image became blurry as debris spread out from the impacts, hindering the Alliance fleet’s view of the devastation.

  Geary decreased the magnification so he could see a larger area, watching as the remaining merchant ships shot past where their target had been. As expected, the angle between the ships’ courses and the planet meant none of the merchants plowed into the planet itself. One of the merchants hit the upper atmosphere of the planet at a high angle and glanced off, the friction and impact breaking its hull and spilling its cargo as the wreckage flew off into space. Three others drilled into the upper regions of the atmosphere at high speed, boring incandescent holes through the planet’s sky as the ships’ hulls vaporized into plasma, the slagged remnants of what had been a ship and cargo finally exiting back into space, still glowing brightly from radiated heat.

  “That must’ve been quite a show from the planet’s surface,” Geary noted.

  “Better show on the other side, Captain Geary,” Desjani advised. “That side of the planet was in darkness. Do you want the replay?”

  “Yeah.” The details differed in that the first three surviving merchant ships all missed their target by varying distances, but the end result was the same, as by chance the fourth scored a direct hit, blasting a deep crater into the Syndic installation and surely destroying every piece of equipment on it by the force of its impact. This side only had two merchant ships enter and then exit atmosphere, but Geary had to concede that Desjani was right. Against the dark sky, the fiery trails of the dead ships stood out so bright that the optical systems on the Dauntless had to adjust sensitivity downward to keep the image from being whited out.

  I wonder what the Syndic pursuit force thought of our little show? Geary checked their location. They won’t see it for another two hours. Then we won’t see their reaction to it for at least another eight hours. Not that there’s much they can do besides yell insults at us.

  “Why haven’t we received another surrender demand?” Desjani wondered, just as if she’d been reading Geary’s last thoughts. “There’s been plenty of time for that Syndic force to get one to us.”

  “Good question. It wouldn’t hurt them in any way to make another demand. Maybe they don’t intend offering the opportunity to surrender anymore.”

  Desjani smiled crookedly. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think that the Syndics ever intended making a sincere offer to accept our surrender. Whatever terms they’d have offered, and whatever terms we’d have accepted, would’ve meant nothing.”

  “Based on what they did to Admiral Bloch and his companions in the Syndic home system, I’d have to agree with you.”

  “I was thinking as well of what just happened in this system.”

  “Another good example, Captain. You’re quite right.” Geary scratched behind one ear. “But if they never intended abiding by any terms of surrender, what would they have to lose by making offers or demands?”

  He was answered this time by Co-President Rione. “They don’t want to appear weak by making demands they can’t enforce.”

  Geary looked back, seeing Rione seated in the observer’s seat. “I’m sorry, Madam Co-President. I didn’t know you’d come onto the bridge.”

  “I entered while the Syndic merchant ships were arriving at the inhabited planet, Captain Geary.” Rione’s face shadowed momentarily with some dark emotion. “I understand the agreement I negotiated was violated.”

  “You might say that,” Desjani responded in a bland voice.

  “But that’s not your fault,” Geary added, with a glance at Desjani.

  “Nonetheless, I offer my apologies.” Rione nodded her head toward the displays before Geary’s and Desjani’s seats. “As I said, the Syndicate Worlds commanders cannot continue demanding our surrender. It’s a matter of politics and image. This fleet has escaped a trap at the Syndicate home system, and run through Corvus System without real hindrance. The appearance grows that the Syndicate commanders cannot bring us to heel. Under the circumstances, they must destroy us or force us to sue for surrender in order to reaffirm their strength.”

  Geary rubbed his lower face, contemplating Rione’s words. “That sounds very plausible.” He glanced at Desjani, who nodded back reluctantly. “There may be another reason, too. I’ll bet you that right now the commander of that pursuit force knows there’s a big reception party waiting for us at Yuon. He’s figuring he’ll come through to Yuon on our heels, while we’re trying to fight our way through that ambush, and finish us. So he or she doesn’t want to talk surrender when he or she sees themself as on the way to being the Hero of Yuon.”

  “That is certainly possible as well,” Rione agreed.

  He took another look at the display, pulling out the scale so that almost all of the Corvus Star System was visible on it, the Alliance fleet and the Syndic pursuit force both reduced to mere dots crawling across the great distances between jump exit and the new jump point. The Alliance force was most of the way through Corvus now, only a day away from being able to jump to hoped-for safety at Kaliban. Which reminds me. There’s some important unfinished business to attend to. “I’ll be in my stateroom.”

  Geary swept past Rione, who gave him a look that was just a shade shy of suspicion. Once safely alone, he began calling up the list of names Captain Duellos had forwarded to him, looking for a new commander for Arrogant. He’d vowed that Commander Vebos wouldn’t be the captain of that ship when they left Corvus, and he meant to fulfill that vow.

  With an entire fleet to draw from, there were plenty of candidates. However, Duellos had taken the trouble to highlight certain names. Geary, checking the names against their service records and whatever brief memories (if any) he had of the individuals, realized those names belonged to officers who were good at their jobs but not among the worshippers of Black Jack Geary.

  One caught his eye. Commander Hatherian, currently weapons officer on the Orion. One of Numos’s officers, which would’ve made Hatherian automatically suspect in Geary’s eyes. In Geary’s experience, people like Numos tended to surround themselves with subordinates who were at least willing to pretend they thought their boss was the brightest star in the heavens. But Duellos thought Hatherian was worth considering. And Hatherian’s last fitness report from Numos had been good but not glowing. Clearly, Hatherian wasn’t Numos’s favorite.

  Hmmm. Hatherian’s a commander. So is Vebos. I was wondering what to do with Vebos.

  Geary crafted a pair of messages with great care, finally downloading them and then returning to the bridge where Rione still sat, he
r and Captain Desjani both apparently oblivious to the other’s presence. “I’m sending orders to Arrogant and Orion,” Geary informed Desjani.

  “Yes, sir.” Desjani obviously wondered why she needed to be told that, but she read the outgoing messages and then fought to keep her expression unremarkable. “Do you anticipate any trouble having these orders followed?”

  “Not on Orion’s part.” If he’d judged Numos right, the man thought himself an inspiring leader. Even if Captain Numos didn’t think too highly of Commander Hatherian, Numos would likely assume that Hatherian would be more loyal to Numos than Geary. Having himself worked for people like Numos, Geary knew things often didn’t work that way. Getting out from under such a commander was often a great relief, and little if any loyalty flowed from the past association.

  Geary sat down, waiting.

  Less than an hour later, a shuttle left Orion, heading for Arrogant. Desjani ran some figures. “It’ll take the shuttle about two hours to reach Arrogant.”

  “I’ll be back.” Geary headed out, forcing himself back down to another mess area to pretend to eat another meal and pretend to be confident of their return to Alliance space. Then he vainly attempted to rest for a while before returning to the bridge.

  “Orion’s shuttle is still a half hour out from Arrogant.”

  “Thank you, Captain Desjani. Has Arrogant sent any messages to the shuttle?”

  “No, sir. As far as we can tell, Arrogant hasn’t acknowledged the shuttle at all.”

  Geary drummed his fingers on his chair arm, pondering what options he had if Vebos continued to act like an idiot. There were several, but he didn’t want the situation to escalate any worse than it absolutely had to. Reaching a decision, he tapped in a communications address that was becoming all too familiar. “Colonel Carabali, I have a shuttle en route to Arrogant from Orion.”

  “Yes, sir.” Carabali eyed him, obviously curious as to why she should care.

  “The shuttle carries Commander Hatherian to relieve Commander Vebos as commanding officer of Arrogant. Commander Vebos has orders to report to Orion as that ship’s new weapons officer.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re familiar with the fleet tradition of sideboys, Colonel Carabali?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It occurs to me that it would be a nice gesture if your detachment of Marines onboard Arrogant were to give the departing commanding officer a ceremonial send off.”

  Carabali, who’d doubtless spent a career dealing with odd requests from superior officers, managed to keep from looking startled. “Sir?”

  “Yes.” Geary smiled in what he hoped was a benign manner. “Like sideboys. I think it would be a good thing if your Marines onboard Arrogant reported to Commander Vebos and informed him that they were there to escort him to the shuttle.”

  Colonel Carabali nodded slowly. “All of my Marines on Arrogant? You want them to find Commander Vebos and tell him they’re…sort of an honor guard.”

  “Yes. Exactly. An honor guard. To escort him off the ship.”

  “And if Commander Vebos declines to avail himself of that honor? What should my Marines do then?”

  “Should that happen,” Geary stated, “have them maintain position around Command Vebos while they contact you and you contact me. We’ll decide on the proper way to persuade Commander Vebos to accept the honor based on the exact situation.”

  “Yes, sir. I will issue the necessary orders, sir. I assume there’s no chance of weapons-release authority being given?”

  Geary tried hard not to smile. Colonel Carabali hadn’t forgotten that it had been Vebos who had ordered the bombardment of her troops. “No weapons, Colonel. If we have to, we’ll frog-march him off the Arrogant. But I think even Commander Vebos will realize his options are limited when he’s surrounded by Marines. Besides, he’s going to Orion.”

  Carabali’s face lit with understanding. “I see. Yes. That should help. I’ll keep you informed, Captain Geary.” Carabali saluted, and her image vanished.

  Geary leaned back to see Desjani watching him and trying not to smile. “An honor guard?” she wondered.

  “Yes,” Geary replied with all the dignity he could muster.

  “Why to Orion, if I may ask?”

  Geary looked around to make sure no one could hear and lowered his voice. “It seemed one way to minimize the number of places I need to keep my eye on. Besides, it gives Numos the opportunity to work with Vebos. And vice versa.”

  “I understand. They deserve each other. Orion’s shuttle is on final approach. Arrogant still hasn’t acknowledged it.”

  Arrogant, being smaller than Orion, didn’t have a shuttle dock. Instead, the shuttle swung close to Arrogant’s main airlock, extended a mating tube and moored to the outside of Arrogant.

  “According to our remote readings, Arrogant’s airlock hasn’t opened yet.”

  Geary checked the time. “I haven’t heard anything from Colonel Carabali. Let’s give it a few minutes.”

  Five minutes later, Colonel Carabali called in, her expression carefully composed. “Commander Vebos and his honor guard are enroute to the airlock on Arrogant.”

  Geary nodded back solemnly. “Any problems?”

  “Nothing that a dozen Marines in full dress uniform couldn’t overawe. Though I must admit that the deciding factor was probably that Arrogant’s crew appeared unresponsive to Commander Vebos’s orders regarding the matter.”

  “Naturally. They know Commander Hatherian has been appointed their new commanding officer. Commander Vebos no longer has command authority over them.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Colonel agreed. “They don’t appear to be in great distress over losing Commander Vebos.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t come as a great shock to me, Colonel.”

  Geary glanced over at Desjani as she interjected. “Arrogant’s airlock has opened,” Desjani reported. “Commander Hatherian is exiting. Commander Vebos is being marched—Excuse me, Commander Vebos is being escorted aboard the shuttle by his honor guard.” Several moments passed. “The honor guard is leaving the shuttle. Arrogant’s airlock is closing.”

  Geary nodded to Carabali’s image. “Thank you for the services of your Marines, Colonel.”

  Carabali saluted. “It was our pleasure, sir.”

  The shuttle detached from Arrogant and began making its way back to Orion. Geary felt a moment’s pity for the crew of the shuttle, who were confined with a doubtlessly very unhappy Commander Vebos until they could off-load him. Then he pulled back the scale on his display, looking back to see the Syndic pursuers very slowly gaining on the Alliance fleet, and then ahead to where the jump point waited. If only every thing I had to do could be as neatly and quickly done as removing Vebos from command.

  In seven more hours, the Alliance fleet would reach the jump point and bid farewell to Corvus. Assuming nothing went wrong before then. Assuming Titan’s propulsion systems didn’t shift into full reverse and then fall off and spiral into a mini–black hole to be lost forever. Geary thought through that scenario twice, realized he’d not only thought of it but was actually taking it half-seriously, and realized just how tired he was. “I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

  He stood and headed off the bridge, slightly surprised to see Co-President Rione still in the observer’s seat. She gave him an arch look as he passed. “An interesting show, Captain Geary.”

  “You mean the bit with Vebos?”

  “Yes. I assume that was meant to encourage the others?”

  He frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard the phrase. “Not exactly. Vebos demonstrated he isn’t smart enough to be entrusted with command of a ship. That’s not about me. It’s about looking out for the crew of Arrogant, and looking out for anyone depending on Arrogant for anything.”

  Rione gave him back a look with just a trace of skepticism apparent. Geary flicked the briefest possible smile at her, then left the bridge.

  He was back several hours
later, having ensured the bridge would give him a wake-up call, when the Alliance fleet jumped out of the Corvus Star System, the Syndic pursuit force still far behind them.

  * * * *

  He’d been watching the strange lights in jump space for a while, slumped in a seat in his stateroom, knowing he had a couple of weeks ahead transiting jump space before he and the rest of the Alliance fleet would learn what, if anything, awaited them at Kaliban. So much I need to do, and so little ability to do it in jump since I have only most rudimentary communications capability with the rest of the fleet until we return to normal space. I ought to just rest. Try to regain the strength I’ve never recovered since they woke me up from that survival pod.

  The fleet medics, tsking over Geary’s physical state, had prescribed certain medications, exercise, and rest. Try to avoid stress, they’d advised. Geary had just stared at them, trying to figure out if they had any idea how ridiculous the prescription was in his case.

  What made it all worse was the fact that he couldn’t be sure how much weakness he could reveal to anyone else. Desjani worshipped the space he traversed, but Geary still didn’t know how she’d take it if she truly came to be convinced that Geary wasn’t a hero sent from the living stars. It’d be different if he had a long-term working relationship with Desjani or any other officer. But having almost literally fallen into the fleet from out of the past, he really knew none of them well.

  Rione didn’t worship Geary and would probably be unsurprised to hear Geary’s worries. She might even have good advice, since so far Geary had been impressed by the quality of her thinking. But he still didn’t know how much he could trust the Co-President of the Callas Republic. The last thing he needed was a politician knowing his secrets and capable of trading them to his enemies for whatever political advantage they might bring.

  No one he could talk to, no one he could share the burden of command with.