Lost Fleet 2 - Fearless

by Jack Campbell

  But what had the commander of that other ship said? “If I’d been a snake, I could’ve bit you! I was right on top of you, and you didn’t even know it.”

  Geary grinned unpleasantly. “I think I know what the Syndic military is planning, and why those civilians on the fifth world are so scared. Let’s make a few modifications to this plan of mine.”

  * * * *

  The fifth world, which Geary had now learned had been given the poetic name Sutrah Five in typical Syndicate Worlds bureaucratic style, lay only thirty minutes away now at the Alliance fleet’s current velocity. Under his original plan, the fleet would have begun braking and swinging to port now, setting up a pass over the planet and inevitably crossing through the space where the moons of Sutrah were orbiting.

  He glanced at the five moons again. They orbited in a cluster, only a few tens of thousands of kilometers from each other. Once upon a time they’d probably been a single large chunk of matter, but at some point tidal stresses from the fifth planet, or perhaps the near passage of some other large object, had torn that single moon into the five fragments.

  Geary tapped his communications controls. “Captain Tulev, are your ships ready?”

  “Standing by,” Tulev reported, his voice betraying no excitement.

  “You may fire when ready,” Geary ordered.

  “Understood. Firing projectiles now.”

  On Geary’s display, large objects detached themselves from the bulks of Tulev’s ships, hurled forward by propulsion and guidance packs that boosted their speed a little higher than the nearly .1 light speed of the fleet.

  Co-President Rione, occupying the observer’s seat on the bridge of the Dauntless, stared at Geary. “We’re firing? At what?”

  “Those moons,” Geary advised. He noticed Captain Desjani trying to hide a smile at Rione’s surprise.

  “The moons of the fifth world?” Co-President Rione’s voice expressed skeptical curiosity. “Do you have some particular dislike of moons, Captain Geary?”

  “Not usually.” Geary got a perverse satisfaction out of knowing that Rione’s spies in his fleet hadn’t heard about this operation.

  She waited, then finally unbent enough to ask more. “Why are you launching an attack on those moons?”

  “Because I think they’re weapons.” Geary tapped some controls, bringing up magnified images of the moons, their surfaces resembling those of asteroids. “See this? Signs that excavation activity was conducted. Well-concealed, so we had to look for it to find it, but there it is.”

  “On a small, airless moon?” Rione asked. “How can you tell it’s recent?”

  “We can’t from here. But all five moons show the same signs.”

  “I see.” Whatever else could be said about Rione, she thought quickly. “What do you think was buried inside these moons, Captain Geary?”

  “Firecrackers, Madam Co-President. Really big firecrackers.” The images representing the massive kinetic energy projectiles, or ‘big rocks’ in Marine terminology, were steadily pulling away from Tulev’s ships on a curving trajectory aimed at the moons. Despite the incredible amount of damage they could inflict, such weapons couldn’t usually be used because they were too easily dodged by anything able to maneuver. But the moons were on fixed orbits, following the same track around the fifth world that they’d coursed for innumerable years. It was strange to think that after today those moons would orbit that world no more.

  Geary activated the fleet command circuit. “All units, execute preplanned maneuver Sigma at time four five.”

  The time scrolled down, and every ship in the fleet turned itself, using their propulsion systems to reduce their velocity and simultaneously altering course to starboard to pass Sutrah Five on the side away from where the moons of that world had their dates with the projectiles launched by the Alliance fleet. Geary watched and waited, taking pleasure in the intricate ballet, all of those ships moving in unison against the darkness of space. Even the lumbering and partially misnamed fast fleet auxiliaries like Titan and Witch moved with what seemed unusual nimbleness.

  Twenty minutes later, as the decelerating Alliance fleet was still approaching Sutrah Five, the huge solid metal projectiles launched by Tulev’s ships slammed at a speed of just over thirty thousand kilometers per second almost simultaneously into the five moons of Sutrah.

  Even the smallest moon was massive by human standards, but the amount of kinetic energy involved in each collision was enough to stagger a planet. Geary’s view of the moons was obscured as the Dauntless’s sensors automatically blocked the intense flashes of visible light from the collisions, then by a rapidly growing ball of dust and fragments, some large and some small, flying outward from the points of impact.

  Geary waited, knowing Desjani had already passed orders to her watch-standers on what to look for. It didn’t take long for the first report. “Spectroscopic analysis shows unusual quantities of radioactive material and traces of gases consistent with very large nuclear detonation devices.”

  “You guessed right,” Desjani noted, her eyes showing the complete trust in him that bothered Geary. He didn’t like seeing it in her any more than he liked seeing it in so many others in this fleet, because of his certainty that sooner or later he would fail that trust. They believed he was perfect, and he knew otherwise.

  “Explain, please?” Rione asked in a crisp voice. “Why would the Syndics have placed large nuclear weapons inside those moons? Some of those large fragments will impact on Sutrah Five.”

  “That was a risk the Syndics were willing to take and one that I judged I had to take,” Geary advised heavily. “Given the unpopulated nature of much of the world, the odds of anything being hit are tiny. You see, Madam Co-President, the Syndics knew we’d have to do two things to liberate the prisoners on that planet. We’d have to go close to the planet, and we’d have to get the fleet into a tight formation so our shuttles wouldn’t have to fly any longer distances than necessary to handle picking up and distributing the people from the labor camp.”

  He pointed to the spreading cloud of debris. “When we were close to those moons, or rather to where those moons used to be, they’d have set off those big nuclear explosives inside them, blowing them into dense interlocking fields of heavy fragments. We could have lost a good number of ships to that, even big warships that happened to be too close.”

  Rione’s eyes glinted with anger. “No wonder the civilians I spoke with were frightened.”

  “I doubt the planetary leaders knew exactly what was going to happen,” Geary suggested. “But they surely knew the Syndic leaders in the system were going to do something.”

  “Something that would’ve subjected them to the same risk of bombardment by fragments of the moons and a retaliatory barrage by the fleet.” Rione’s face was grim. “Captain Geary, I know that under the laws of war you’re now justified in conducting an orbital bombardment of installations and cities on Sutrah Five, but I ask you to show some mercy to the civilian pawns living on that world.”

  Geary could almost see the disdain on Desjani’s face at the suggestion, but he nodded. “We will retaliate, Madam Co-President, but I won’t slaughter helpless civilians. Please recontact the civil authorities on Sutrah Five and tell them to immediately evacuate all industrial, mining, and transportation centers. Any space facility or field is also to be evacuated. Tell them I won’t decide how much to destroy, including more than what’s on that list, until I see what sort of greeting our Marines encounter at the labor camp.” He let his anger show now, anger at the thought of what might have happened. “Make sure they understand that if there’s any more problems at all, there will be hell to pay, and they’ll be the ones receiving the bill.”

  Rione nodded, smiling thinly. “Very well, Captain Geary. I will ensure your orders to them are understood and that they know their lives hang on the thread of their cooperation with us.”

  Desjani shifted as if uncomfortable. “The military base, too, right, Captain
Geary?”

  Geary checked, seeing that the part of the planet holding the base was within line of sight of the fleet right now. “I assume it’s already been evacuated?”

  Desjani frowned and checked, then frowned a little more. “No. A partial evacuation seems under way.”

  “Partial?”

  “Yes. There’s some columns of ground vehicles, but most of the occupants appear to be family members. Few uniforms noted.” Desjani quirked an eyebrow at Geary. “It looks like the Syndic troops are planning on crewing their positions to the end.” She didn’t seem bothered by the idea.

  Geary was. He rubbed his chin, thinking. “Ground vehicles. Nothing else has been spotted leaving?”

  “Let me see.” This time both of Desjani’s eyebrows went up. “Ah, yes. Several air vehicles departed over half an hour ago, headed toward the nearest mountain range. The system has maintained a track on them.”

  “The top commanders, headed for a buried command bunker to ride out our retaliation in safety and comfort,” Geary stated.

  Desjani nodded.

  “I want to find that bunker.”

  She grinned.

  “I assume we’ve got kinetic rounds for orbital bombardment that can penetrate a fair distance into solid rock?”

  “Yes, we do, sir,” Desjani replied with positive glee. Geary had telegraphed a desire to blow away Syndics, and her world was a happy one.

  * * * *

  A swarm of shuttles had left the Alliance fleet, descending on Sutrah Five like a cloud of huge insects falling on their prey. Overhead, the ships of the Alliance fleet were concentrated into a tight formation that nonetheless covered a large sector of space above the planet. Geary knew that the inhabitants of Sutrah Five were looking up right now in fear, knowing that his fleet could rain death upon them and render the entire planet uninhabitable in very short order.

  The landing force virtual display floated next to Geary’s seat, with the ranks of images from Marine officers presented like trading cards for his selection. He could, with the movement of a finger, talk directly to any of the Marines and see through their eyes, thanks to helmet-mounted sensors. But the only officer he called up was Colonel Carabali, not wanting to jump the chain of command, even though the command and control system made that entirely too easy.

  “The reconnaissance shuttles have detected no signs of nuclear or other weapons of mass destruction at the labor camp site,” Carabali reported. “We’ll conduct another sweep, then land the recon teams.”

  “Have you confirmed Alliance prisoners are present in predicted numbers?”

  “Looks like it, sir.” Carabali grinned. “From up here they seem pretty happy.”

  Geary sat back, smiling himself. He’d encountered a lot of situations since being rescued that he’d never expected, and most of those had been unpleasant. Duty had been a heavy burden. But now there were thousands of people who’d never expected liberation, viewing the shuttles of this fleet overhead, people who might’ve already spent decades as prisoners with no hope of release. This fleet, his fleet, was going to rescue them. It felt good.

  If only the Syndics didn’t try anything else. It was still possible for thousands on the verge of being freed to die in that camp.

  “Recon shuttles down,” Carabali reported, echoing the information on Geary’s own display, which he’d focused on the camp. “Teams deploying.”

  Geary gave in to temptation, calling up one of the recon team officers. A window opened with a view from the officer’s helmet, showing bare dirt and battered structures. The sky was a washed-out pale blue verging on gray, its appearance as cold and drab as life must have been in that labor camp. No Syndic guards were visible, but the Alliance prisoners had formed up into ranks, their officers in front, waiting with anxious and dazed faces as the Marines dashed past them, searching for any signs of danger.

  The Marine Geary was monitoring stopped in front of one formation of prisoners, facing the woman standing before them. “Are there any concealed weapons you know of? Any unusual activity?” the Marine demanded.

  The woman, well past middle age, thin, her skin almost leathery from long exposure to the environment of Sutrah Five with inadequate protection and probably a prisoner for most of her life, spoke with careful precision. “No, Lieutenant. We were confined to quarters and couldn’t observe outside activity last night, but we heard the guards leave in a hurry before dawn. We’ve searched every part of the camp and found no weapons. The camp data office is in that building.” She pointed.

  The Marine paused for a moment to salute. “Thank you, Commander.”

  Geary pulled his attention away from the view, forcing himself to close the window showing that particular Marine’s point of view. He had a duty to keep his eye on everything going on around the fleet.

  “It looks quiet,” Desjani remarked. “The only activity we can detect on the planet are the columns of evacuees heading away from target sites. There’s a moon fragment coming in about three hundred klicks west of the labor camp,” she added, pointing to the display. “It’ll mess up everything around the impact site, but the camp will just hear a distant bang and feel a breeze.”

  Geary read the data for the impact. “And maybe feel the ground tremor. Every time we’ve thought things looked quiet in this system it’s just meant the Syndics were planning something else nasty. What could we be missing this time?”

  Desjani pursed her lips in thought. “The Marines are checking the prisoners for exposure to delayed-effect biological agents. The prisoners should’ve spotted anything buried in the camp. The only Syndic ships in the system besides a few cargo ships are the three sets of HuKs we’ve been tracking since arrival, none of which are within a light-hour of us. I wouldn’t put it past them to blow the planet to hell in hopes of getting more of us, but there’s no weapon that could do that.”

  A window popped up before Geary, and Colonel Carabali’s image saluted. “I’m sending in the main landing force, Captain Geary. No threats detected.” On his display, Geary could see the bulk of the shuttles coming in to land, many just outside the boundaries of the camp to find sufficient room. Marines spilled out, looking reassuringly efficient and deadly in their battle armor.

  Yet Geary found the sight worrisome. Practically every Marine in the fleet was down there. If something happened to them, he’d have lost a very important combat capability, as well as the most reliably obedient component of his fleet. A moment later he mentally lashed himself for thinking of the losses in those terms instead of as the deaths of a lot of good men and women.

  Co-President Rione seemed to share Geary’s disquiet. “This seems too easy after all the other mischief the Syndics have pulled in this system.”

  Geary nodded. “But there’s nothing in the camp. The prisoners said they’d searched it, and they’d know if there was anything unusual.”

  Colonel Carabali reported in again. “We’ve taken the data building and are checking the files now. All prisoners had implants linked to a tracking system and a virtual wall around the camp to keep them from going anywhere they weren’t allowed. We’re in the process of deactivating the implants and the virtual wall.”

  “Good.” Geary’s eyes went back to the display. “Once the virtual wall is down, the prisoners will be able to leave the camp boundaries to board those shuttles,” he remarked to Desjani.

  “Damn!”

  Geary spun in his seat, shocked by the sudden and un-characteristic outburst from Rione. She was pointing at the displays. “Outside the camp, Captain Geary. You’re all looking at threats inside the camp, but most of your shuttles are grounded outside the camp!”

  Geary felt a hard lump in his gut as he realized what Rione was saying. He punched the controls to call Carabali. “Outside the camp perimeter, Colonel! The prisoners couldn’t go there, which means they couldn’t search there. We’ve focused our own search on the camp itself. But a lot of the shuttles are outside the camp, and the prisoners will be brought
to them there.”

  Carabali gritted her teeth. “Understood.” Geary watched the Marine command and control net light up as orders flew from Colonel Carabali to the rest of the Marines. Units headed out to secure a wide perimeter started backtracking and spreading into search patterns, while some of those inside the camp headed out to search closer in.

  “We still should’ve detected nukes,” Desjani stated angrily.

  “Yeah,” Geary agreed. “But something else could’ve been buried there.”

  “We’ve got delayed action mines,” Carabali reported, her voice cool. “A mix of lofting fragmentation and chemicals. They’re older models but still hard enough to spot that we wouldn’t have seen them if we hadn’t done a special sweep of that area. My mine experts say they’re probably set to blow once they detect enough human presence around them. We’re using high-energy pulses to fry the triggering mechanisms and render them harmless.”

  “What about even farther out?” Geary asked.

  “We’re sweeping now.” A trace of anger entered the calm professionalism of Carabali’s tone. “I’ll provide a full report of my failure to anticipate and identify the threat so you can take whatever disciplinary action you deem appropriate, sir.”

  Geary couldn’t suppress a sigh, catching a glimpse as he did so of the now-impassive face of Co-President Rione. “Thank you, Colonel, but we missed it, too, and share in any blame. You can thank Co-President Rione for figuring it out in time.”