The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught

by Jack Campbell

  “I see.” Meaning that while still at Varandal, Captain Smythe had been tapping into Alliance communications not intended for him. Somehow that wasn’t too big a surprise. Technically, it was a violation of security rules and communications procedures, but in practice Smythe wasn’t the only commanding officer who kept his or her eye out for things they might need to know even though they didn’t have a formally established need to know. Besides, it never hurt to make sure that you knew something you needed to know about even if it hadn’t been addressed to you specifically.

  “We had a large amount of such messages backlogged from before we left Alliance space,” Jamenson continued. “I’ve been getting to them slowly because there’s a lot of minutiae in them, little details and unknown program codes and funding streams I don’t recognize. But I think . . . I’m certain that I’ve identified a pattern in many of those messages.”

  Her attitude wasn’t reassuring in the least. “Something concerning this fleet?”

  “I don’t know, Admiral. In a nutshell, there’s still new construction of warships under way within the Alliance.”

  “We knew that,” Geary said. “Completing full hulls that were almost finished.”

  “No, sir. Much more than that.” Jamenson hesitated again. “I can’t be absolutely sure of how much, but from the number of project codes, contract references, and funding streams, there seem to be at least a dozen battleships and a dozen battle cruisers being built, including some extensive new modification work on partially completed hulls, plus enough heavy cruisers, light cruisers, and destroyers to serve as escorts.”

  He just looked back at her for a long time, trying to fit Jamenson’s information into what he had already known. What he had thought he already knew. “This is being kept hidden?”

  “Yes, Admiral. We weren’t supposed to see any of the messages concerning the construction, and it’s all hidden in a mess of details. There aren’t any single contract identifiers. It was hard to figure out what was really happening.”

  Another long pause as Geary tried to think. “Auxiliaries. Are any of those being built?”

  “Um.” Jamenson looked startled, then thought. “I haven’t identified any indications of new construction for auxiliaries, Admiral.”

  Was that why headquarters had tried to yank the bulk of his auxiliary force? Or were these new ships intended only for defense of the Alliance and not for any offensive operations outside Alliance space, where auxiliaries would be needed?

  Why had this construction been kept secret from him? Why had the grand council and everyone else told him that no new ships were being constructed? And what were these extensive modifications? Were the new ships being built for long hull lives? Which would mean that someone had realized what would be happening to the shorthull-life warships in Geary’s fleet.

  Jamenson was watching him worriedly, biting her lower lip.

  Finally, Geary nodded to her. “Thank you, Lieutenant. This is important information, and your ability to pull it all together means we know about it. Is there anything else?”

  “No, sir. That’s all I can say at this point.”

  “But you do feel confident in saying that twenty-four major warships are under construction, along with sufficient escorts for those warships.”

  “Yes, sir. I can lay out all the details for you, Admiral.”

  “Just leave them with me.” Geary paused again. “Please thank Captain Smythe for his foresight in telling me about this. Do we have any indications about how much the bureaucracy back home has figured out what we’re doing to fix up this fleet?”

  “No, sir, I’m sorry. Before we left, we saw no signs they had picked up on anything yet, though. I’m really working hard to confuse everything.”

  “I never thought that I’d be thanking a lieutenant for working so hard at that.” Geary gave her his best look of approval. “Damn good job, Lieutenant Jamenson. Thank you,” he repeated.

  He would probably have to give her a medal when all was said and done because her efforts would make such a huge difference in the readiness of the fleet. But how would he word the citation? Under trying operational conditions and with limited resources, Lieutenant Jamenson successfully and repeatedly confused higher authority, ensuring that superiors in the chain of command were totally unable to figure out what was actually happening. Many junior officers (and more than a few senior officers) had inadvertently done that in the past, but Jamenson might be the first to get a medal for deliberately doing it.

  Twelve battleships and twelve battle cruisers. Something to keep quiet from the taxpayers, perhaps, and certainly something that the Syndics should be kept from knowing. But why the effort to keep him and presumably many others unaware of it?

  CEO Iceni was smiling slightly, with the look of a partner, or of a coconspirator. “I’ll lay out what I want from you, Admiral Geary, then what I can offer in return, and you can decide if it’s a fair bargain. I assure you, I’m not asking for anything you could not provide.

  “What this star system is most in need of is your protection from the enigma race. I believe I am safe in saying that the same provision of the peace treaty that your fleet is using to justify being able to travel freely through Syndicate Worlds’ space to this star system could also be read to be an open-ended commitment by the Alliance to defend this star system from the enigmas.”

  That was a turnabout that Geary hadn’t suspected. He had a feeling that this was another one of those “lawyers could argue indefinitely” issues, but if the Syndics could point to what the average person would interpret as an ongoing Alliance commitment to the defense of Midway, it would be hard to just disregard that interpretation. Especially when the Alliance was exploiting the same provision for its own ends.

  “Beyond that,” Iceni continued, as if the defense issue were settled, “I would like your passive support and your active forbearance. My knowledge of the Alliance’s remaining strength is far from complete, and the central government of the Syndicate Worlds has refused to provide specific information to us about their own strength right now, but I believe that I am safe in saying that you, and your fleet, are the dominant force in human space at this time. If it is implied or uncertain whether this star system is under your protection, it will give pause to anyone, human or not, who wishes to threaten us.”

  Human or not. Iceni shouldn’t expect any threat from the Alliance. The only other dangers she would face aside from the aliens would be nearby star systems led by CEOs who had struck out on their own and started threatening their neighbors, and the remnants of Syndicate Worlds’ central authority.

  “Your active forbearance is critical as well.” Iceni gestured to a star display next to her, which was centered on the Syndicate Worlds’ home star system. “The central government has its hands full trying to maintain control of the star systems it still has. Every ship that arrives here brings reports of more star systems that are . . . seeking autonomy. The Syndicate Worlds’ government cannot possibly force them all back under its control, not with the small forces remaining to it in the aftermath of your campaigns, Admiral Geary. But some star systems are more valuable than others. I know how badly the central government will want to retain control of this star system, both because of the hypernet gate here and because of its strategic location.”

  Iceni paused, clearly giving him time to think through her words. “Your help would be welcome in supporting the efforts of the people of this star system to find the freedom and independence the Alliance has always championed.”

  Is she actually going to ask my help in declaring independence from the Syndicate Worlds? Though I notice she mentioned freedom and independence as matters of importance to the Alliance but didn’t say anything about democracy. I doubt that was an accidental oversight. And I doubt that she means freedom in terms of liberty for the average citizens of this star system.

  “I understand,” Iceni continued, “that active support of our endeavors may be impossible wi
thout clearly violating the peace treaty. All I ask is that you refuse to assist the central government of the Syndicate Worlds when they come to you saying that it is vital for the defense of human space that this star system remain firmly in their control.”

  Rione had been right. Iceni did plan on independence for this star system. Or rather independence for herself as ruler of this star system.

  “Now,” Iceni said, looking straight into the camera in what must be a remarkably good imitation of someone with nothing to hide, “there is the matter of what I offer in return.” The display beside her changed, showing the Midway hypernet gate. “All of the gates in the hypernet system constructed by the Syndicate Worlds now have the safe-fail mechanisms on them, but as you are aware, all that does is limit the immediate damage if the gates collapse. Every time a gate collapses, we lose part of our hypernet, and our defense capability is harmed as is our trade and other aspects of our economies. If the enigma race chose to collapse the entire hypernet constructed by the Syndicate Worlds, as we believe they could, the long-term impact would be horrendous. It is our assessment that the enigmas have refrained from this step only because they are trying to find a means of canceling out the effects of the safe-fail mechanisms so that the collapse of gates can once more cause the death of entire human star systems.”

  Geary stared at Iceni’s image, grateful that she couldn’t see his reaction. Collapse the entire hypernet? That wouldn’t directly cause damage, but the tactic was so obvious now that Iceni had mentioned it. Once the aliens knew that humanity wasn’t going to annihilate itself using the gates as weapons, there was no reason for them to continue allowing humanity all of the benefits from the hypernet systems.

  Iceni made a dismissive gesture. “I realize that the Alliance must have reached the same conclusions and be working on its own defense against the loss of its hypernet system. However, we already have one, a mechanism that actually blocks the collapse command, so that each individual gate as well as the system as a whole is impervious to that form of alien attack. It has been tested. It does work.”

  Was the Alliance working on such a system? How could they not be? Was that why he had been ordered to detach those hypernet-knowledgeable personnel? But Commander Neeson had been certain that the fleet’s personnel were not expert enough to make any difference to any Alliance efforts. Not with Captain Cresida dead.

  But removing those personnel from the fleet would have gone a long way to ensuring that the fleet had no means of even realizing this particular threat might exist. As well as no means of constructing a device such as Iceni now offered.

  Geary’s eyes went to his own star display, imagining a journey back to Alliance space from Midway the hard way, jumping star to star, a distance well more than twice that which the fleet had covered in its withdrawal from the Syndic home star system. Even without the constant threat of attack, it would be a long and arduous trek, cut off from home the entire time. Fuel, food . . . how could he acquire what he needed for such a long journey without taking it under threat of violence?

  And what if the fleet had returned to Midway from alien space, low on supplies and possibly battered by combat, to find that instead of a fast journey home, it would require close to a year?

  Had the government realized that risk existed and thought the need to learn more about the aliens justified dealing with it? But why hadn’t they told him about it? And why had fleet headquarters tried to yank the majority of his auxiliary support just before departure from Varandal, when that risk made having the maximum possible auxiliary support vital? Was that the reason the auxiliaries had been ordered away from him, and not the issue of supporting the new construction warships? Or was it a matter of both?

  Why would the government and headquarters risk stranding the vast majority of its fleet as far from Alliance territory as existed within human space? Stranding the fleet and . . . stranding him.

  A living hero can be a very inconvenient thing.

  He became aware that Iceni was speaking once again. “I’m sure that you appreciate the value of what I am offering to you. All you need do in exchange for the design of this extremely important system is to remain silent when it is implied that this star system is under your protection against all aggression, and to refuse any request by the Syndicate Worlds’ central government for assistance if they seek to attack the peace-loving people of this star system.”

  Her smile took on the completely insincere cast of a standard Syndic CEO expression. “You see that this is a humanitarian issue as well as a matter of self-interest. I am willing to accept your . . . word of . . . honor on this matter. Simply say that is what you will do, and the design will be transmitted to you.

  “I await your agreement, Admiral Geary. For the people, Iceni, out.”

  He covered his face with his hands, thoughts racing. The government wouldn’t be bound by any commitments of that nature that I made, but it seems Iceni believes, just like Badaya and his followers, that I’m actually running things in the Alliance now. Saying that I take my orders from the Alliance government is true, but she won’t believe that’s the real reason.

  The Alliance government that may have tried to strand me and the fleet out here. What would the aliens do when we penetrated their space? That could have triggered the wholesale collapse of the Syndicate Worlds’ hypernet. Didn’t anybody think about that? Is this a case of deliberate malice or just lack of foresight? The fiasco with that courts-martial message was proof enough that there are people in authority who aren’t thinking through the implications of what they do, but when things keep happening, it forms a very disturbing pattern.

  How much had Rione known?

  Ironically, the Syndics had probably used the information that Geary had given them about the alien worms to develop their mechanism, along with the design of the safe-collapse system first developed by Cresida and leaked to the Syndics to ensure their gates wouldn’t be used as weapons by the enigmas against the Alliance fleet. Or maybe it wasn’t ironic at all. Those gestures had seemed the right thing to do. Humanitarian in the real sense of the word, and a means to ensure that the Syndics in Midway had a meaningful chance to defend themselves, as well as being aimed at aiding and protecting the Alliance. Thanks to those gestures, he had the opportunity to acquire what might be a critically important breakthrough. If the Alliance, absorbed in internal political squabbles, hadn’t figured out that particular threat, or if it simply hadn’t figured out how to build a device like that yet, wasn’t it his responsibility to ensure that he brought back this Syndic countermeasure?

  Iceni wasn’t even asking for anything in writing. Well, of course not. She was clearly too smart to commit agreements to paper when her own government would consider those agreements to be treasonous. It had been saddening as well as instructive to see Iceni grope for the term “word of honor,” an expression she plainly wasn’t used to using. For a moment, he wondered what Syndic CEOs used among themselves as a guarantee that agreements would be honored.

  I can’t ask for advice on this one. If I reach an agreement with Iceni, it might be regarded as contrary to regulations, exceeding my authority, and unlawfully committing the Alliance to actions regarding the internal affairs of the Syndicate Worlds. Anyone I talk to before I make that decision would be implicated in it.

  I have to decide alone, so no one else can take a hit for my decision.

  He called up a report prepared by intelligence based on message intercepts in this star system and started reading it again. Iceni was still senior CEO here. No surprise there. The second-most-powerful CEO in the star system was the commander of the ground forces, a man named Drakon. Not much was known about him, but he had been involved in several battles along the border with the Alliance and been rated as highly effective by Alliance intelligence, before being mysteriously transferred to an assignment at the Syndic equivalent of the back end of nowhere.

  Geary thought of Jason Boyens, the captured Syndic CEO they had brought
back to Midway, who said that he had been assigned here, far from the front with the Alliance, as a form of exile. I wonder who Drakon ticked off and what he did?

  Also listed was a CEO named Hardrad, who apparently commanded the internal security forces in the star system and whose status ranked parallel to Iceni and Drakon. From what he had seen, Syndic internal security forces wielded immense power. They always had, but that power had been enhanced during the long war, and in some Syndic star systems that had included nuclear weapons as an ultimate safeguard against mass rebellion by planetary populations. He wondered how Iceni planned to handle Hardrad, or if she had already turned him so he would support her.

  In other star systems, he had seen firsthand the results of attempts to declare independence from the Syndicate Worlds, the open warfare between military factions, civilian groups, and internal security forces. He hated to think of Midway suffering the same fate, but that was a matter beyond his control.

  The report listed more names of sub-CEOs who had been identified in Syndic message traffic, but offered little other information besides a fragmentary order of battle for ground forces and a complete listing of Syndic warships in the star system.

  No answers there. Geary went for a walk, down to the spaces deep inside Dauntless, where worship rooms awaited those seeking privacy. He sat down in a vacant room, lighting the ceremonial candle. Honored ancestors, you know the decision I must make. What is your guidance?

  He waited, felt nothing, rephrased the question, felt nothing, and finally snuffed out the candle and left.

  Outside, he almost bumped into a sailor hastening into the rooms. With an almost comical expression of alarm, the sailor straightened to attention and saluted. “Excuse me, Admiral!”

  “Not a problem,” Geary replied, waving the sailor past. “You’ve obviously got some urgent questions to ask.”