The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian

by Jack Campbell

  “The Syndic, er, that is, the Midway freighters were here, Admiral. They showed up and asked for the prisoners from the Syndic Reserve Flotilla that you destroyed. There was some sort of major flap, though. Commandos and Marines on Ambaru station, warships moving around quickly, and a lot of high-priority, highly classified message traffic flying.”

  “But the freighters got out safely? Along with Captain Bradamont?”

  “Sir, I’ve seen no mention of Captain Bradamont, but otherwise, yes, it looks like they jumped out a few days ago.”

  When Admiral Timbale’s message finally showed up, he confirmed that. “Captain Bradamont was with them, though only I know that. If certain parties had discovered she was with those freighters, it would have caused no end of trouble, and things were bad enough as it was. She said you ran into problems using the hypernet gate at Midway, but after your fleet left, the problems cleared up. According to Bradamont, the Syndics—ah, excuse me, the people of the free and independent Midway Star System, were baffled but were certain that the Syndic government must have figured out how to selectively block access to hypernet gates, and they used that to complicate your journey home.”

  Timbale, still three light-hours distant on Ambaru station, blew out a long breath. “It’s been . . . interesting here. I assume you’ve noticed the stealth shuttles and commandos hanging around Ambaru, waiting for me to step outside the protection of the Marines on the station. I’ve had a full platoon of combat-ready Marines following me everywhere for the last few days because I’m pretty sure at least one senior officer thinks he or she has grounds for arresting me. But now you’ve shown up, just as Captain Bradamont said you would. She got out fine, though it was nip and tuck for a while. She also gave me a rundown on what you ran into out there, including telling me about that captured superbattleship, but I didn’t realize just how big that damned thing was. And the six Dancer ships. I knew all that was coming. No one else did, though, so you’ve made one hell of a dramatic entrance. But then, you make a habit of that.” Timbale smiled to show the comment was meant as a compliment.

  “I’m still in charge here for the time being. I’m glad you’re here to back me up. I think things will finally calm down really fast now, and fleet headquarters will rethink any ideas about relieving me for treason or bad judgment or just on general principles. Ah, what do you know, the commandos look like they’re finally heading home. I guess everything is fine, and we’re all friends again.

  “I’m really looking forward to seeing your detailed report on what you’ve been doing. Damn, that is one big battleship. To the honor of our ancestors, Timbale, out.”

  The next several days were busy ones. The fleet had to be brought into the inner star system, many ships put into parking orbits reserved for Alliance warships and others eased into orbiting dry docks for repair work. Liberated Alliance prisoners had to be shuttled to Ambaru station for processing. Reports had to be sent, Alliance courier ships racing to the Alliance hypernet gate at Varandal to bear the news of Black Jack’s return to the government at Unity and to fleet headquarters. Other courier ships, private ones leased by news organizations, also tore out of Varandal with reports that Black Jack was alive, he was back, he had rescued thousands of Alliance prisoners from the Syndics, including many senior officers, all of them men and women long thought dead, he had found new allies for humanity, he had been betrayed by the Syndics and defeated the enigmas once more, and other news reports that Geary could have done without. That Black Jack had possession of the largest warship every constructed and he would use it to either defend humanity or take over the Alliance or wipe out the Syndics once and for all or . . .

  “A fleet?” Desjani blurted. “Some people think you’re going to build a fleet of ships like Invincible? Do they have any idea what that would require?”

  “No,” Geary said sourly. “They don’t have any idea. That’s why they think I’ll do it.” They were in his stateroom, the hatch open, while Geary wondered for the thousandth time since arriving at Varandal when he and Tanya might have a chance to leave her ship, to spend at least a few hours off official property and off official duty, as husband and wife rather than Admiral and Captain.

  Another message came in, and Geary almost shunted it to mail before seeing who it was from. “They are still alive,” Dr. Nasr reported with a wan smile. “We have kept the last two captured bear-cows alive until we reached Alliance space and until someone else could take custody of them.”

  “Congratulations, Doctor,” Geary said. He could understand the doctor’s subdued attitude. Had they done the right thing? What would happen to those two Kicks now? Nasr cared more than anyone else because to him, they were his patients. Even while the entire rest of the fleet used the nickname Kicks, the doctor continued to employ the more polite and respectful term “bear-cows” when speaking of those two.

  “I am in receipt of orders to transfer the two bear-cows to custody of the Shilling Institute.” Nasr grimaced. “They are good people. Good doctors. It is a good place for treatments of the most difficult kinds. But I do not like turning the bear-cows over to someone who does not know them. We have learned enough to keep the sedation at the right levels though there were a few rough moments even in the last several days.”

  “The medical authorities will take your experience into account, won’t they?” Geary asked. “You say the physicians at the Shilling Institute are capable.”

  “They are, but they are among the elite. We are fleet physicians, Admiral,” Dr. Nasr said with heavy irony. “A lesser form of surgeon in the eyes of the elite. They will listen to us, some of them will pay heed, but I fear others will discount what we say and make their own mistakes.” All trace of humor was gone now. “And the last two bear-cows may die. Not because the people gaining custody of them are evil or wrong but because humans make mistakes, even in cases that do not involve very cute creatures who do not think as we do and did not evolve as we did.”

  Geary clenched his teeth, fighting down a sense of futility that he knew the doctor must share. “We did the best we could. I don’t know what else we could have done.”

  “Neither do I, Admiral. I wanted you to know. Perhaps I am being unduly pessimistic, the doctor unwilling to hand his patient off to another doctor. Perhaps I am the one suffering from the belief that I know more than anyone else.” Nasr seemed wistful for a moment. “It is a great pity. The bear-cows will never know how hard we tried to save them, to keep them alive, to help them. But they think they already know what we intend toward them, and so they would not listen, not even for a few seconds. How do we explain this to others, to those who would blame us? I have already heard it. How could you have fought them? How could you have killed them?”

  “They didn’t give us any choice.”

  “Our records should make that clear,” the doctor agreed. “Unless people do not want to believe those records.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. For everything.” Geary turned to talk to Tanya, only to hear the high-pitched squeal that warned of an urgent message.

  Captain Hiyen had the fixed expression of someone facing a firing squad, that combination of resignation that nothing could be done and determination to face fate’s last throw with as much courage as possible. It was not the sort of fatalistic cast any commander wanted to see on a subordinate when they reported in. It seemed particularly out of place here, in supposed safety at Varandal. “Admiral, I must speak with you, privately and as soon as possible.”

  The battleship Reprisal orbited only a few light-seconds distant, making a real conversation possible without long, awkward pauses as light crawled between ships carrying human messages. “What exactly does this concern?” Geary asked, gesturing urgently to Desjani.

  “It . . . concerns the ships of the Callas Republic. And, I believe, those of the Rift Federation. Please, Admiral. There may be little time.”

  Rione had warned him that a long-simmering pot might be on the verge of boiling over. Geary paused
, thinking, then glanced over at where Tanya sitting, her whole attitude alert as she sensed Geary’s concern. “Captain Desjani, please accompany me to the high-security conference room.” Private talk, hell. He needed other ears, other minds, working with him if this involved what he feared.

  And if this matter involving the ships of the Callas Republic was what he thought it was . . . Geary hit an internal comm control. “Emissary Rione, I need you in the high-security conference room as soon as possible.” Rione had been Co-President of the Callas Republic, and respected by the crews of the ships from that republic and the Rift Federation, before being recently voted out of office in one of the wave of special elections convulsing the Alliance’s political order. The republic and the federation had only joined with the Alliance during the war out of fear of the Syndicate Worlds, and with their populations now chafing to sever formal ties, Rione’s loyalty to the Alliance had been a serious drawback for her with the voters.

  “That call was from Reprisal,” Tanya noted, as they started toward the conference room, walking briskly but not so fast as to arouse alarm among the crew members who saw them.

  “Right. You can guess what this is probably about.”

  She nodded with a slow deliberation that startled Geary. “They want to go home.”

  “We all do.”

  “Not as bad as them. And we are home, in the Alliance. Those ships are from the Callas Republic. They haven’t been home in a long time.”

  “I know.”

  A few minutes later, the hatch to the room sealed behind Rione as she joined them, the lights above the hatch came on declaring the room and its communications to be as secure as current fleet hardware and software could achieve, and Geary gestured to Tanya to open the link to Captain Hiyen.

  Hiyen did not appear happy to see the others present but then sighed heavily in acceptance. “Admiral, I will trust in your judgment on including these others. Madam Co-President, I still call you that, but many of our people no longer trust you.”

  Rione took that news impassively, but Geary could see the hurt in her eyes. “I did not write the orders that kept you here. I was called on to deliver them, but I never approved of them.”

  “I believe you,” Hiyen said. “Admiral, to put it bluntly, I have the sad duty to report that mutiny is imminent on the ships of this fleet from the Callas Republic and, I believe, on those from the Rift Federation as well. In my professional opinion, at any moment, my officers and crew, and those of the other ships from the republic and the federation, will cease responding to orders and break away from the fleet en route their homes.

  “There is nothing,” Hiyen added, “that I can do to stop this. It is in some ways a miracle that we came this far without mutiny. But now it is inevitable.”

  Desjani clenched one fist. “If those ships mutiny and take off on their own, the rest of the fleet is going to go unstable really fast. But if you send Marines to subdue the crews, or order our ships to fire on those ships, the result might be even worse.”

  And, of course, Geary knew that even though he had not created this situation, the decision on what to do was his, and his alone, just as the blame for any negative consequences would be his.

  “You’ve tried everything to keep a lid on the situation?” Geary asked Hiyen.

  “Everything except mass arrests,” Captain Hiyen replied heavily. “I fear attempting that would cause the entire situation to go nova.”

  “He’s right,” Rione said, her voice quiet but full of certainty. “We can’t contain this any longer.”

  “But Captain Desjani is right,” Geary said. “If I just let those ships head for home, every other sailor and Marine in this fleet is going to start wondering about taking decisions like that into their own hands. A lot of them don’t want to mutiny, they want to be fleet, but they’re feeling badly used. Trying to stop any of them by force would produce even worse results.”

  “Talk to them,” Desjani urged.

  “Force is the only remaining option to stop this,” Hiyen said. “They will not listen, not even to Black Jack. They are grateful to him, but they have been through too much. I will be removed from command by my crew if I try to stop them, and they will fight back if you try to stop them.”

  If only Hiyen had been incompetent, a bad leader whose assessments were not to be trusted and whose removal could stabilize the situation. But Captain Hiyen was capable enough. Not the finest officer in the fleet, but a good officer who knew how to lead. Geary looked at Tanya and saw his assessment mirrored in her eyes.

  “How is the fleet supposed to handle such situations?” Rione asked.

  Geary shrugged. “The traditional response is to shoot the messenger. Blame Captain Hiyen for telling us about the problem, blame him for the problem, and do nothing else until everything blows up.”

  Desjani nodded and bared her teeth in a humorless smile. “At which point, we blame Captain Hiyen’s subordinates, the most junior ones possible, for the entire problem.”

  “We cannot stop the explosion,” Rione said. “What can we do to . . . minimize its effects? To . . . what is the right word . . . redirect it?”

  Hiyen shook his head in despair. “You cannot redirect a mutiny, Madam Co-President.”

  Desjani leaned forward, her eyes intent. “Wait a minute. Redirect. Those ships were told to stay with this fleet by their government, Admiral Geary, but they are under your command.”

  “Isn’t that the problem?” Geary snapped.

  Her saw Desjani flush at his tone and knew he would pay for it later. But for now her voice stayed level. “You are their commander. Send them somewhere. Send them now.”

  “Where could I order them,” Geary demanded in frustration, “that wouldn’t make them just as unhappy? They want to go home—”

  He stopped speaking as he understood. “Victoria, you know those orders you brought. Can I do that?”

  “I . . .” Normally composed, Rione had been badly rattled by this situation, but she got control of herself by an effort so strong it was visible to everyone. “It depends. You can’t just send them somewhere. There has to be an official reason related to the defense of the Alliance.”

  Geary called up a display, entered a quick query, then studied the detailed information about the ships of the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation. Names of ships, names of commanding officers, status of ships . . . Old ships, tired ships, and tired crews. “They need repair and refit. And new personnel. Replacements for those lost in battle. Right now the Alliance is paying for all of that. Why shouldn’t the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation be responsible for repairs?”

  “Admiral?” Captain Hiyen asked. “Our orders are to remain with the Alliance fleet.”

  “Your orders,” Rione said, “are to stay attached to the fleet and respond to the orders of Alliance officers in command.”

  “Which doesn’t mean being physically attached to the fleet,” Desjani said.

  “Exactly,” Geary added. “If I tell your ships to leave, if I give them orders to return to their home space, they will be following orders when they do leave. It won’t be a mutiny, it will be obedience to orders. Captain Hiyen, all ships of the Callas Republic are going to be formed into a task force, effective immediately, with orders to proceed under your command back to the Callas Republic for refit, repair, and resupply. How soon can you depart?”

  Hiyen stared at Geary, then laughed briefly in a disbelieving way. “Probably immediately. We’ve all got enough provisions and fuel for the hypernet hop back to the Republic. But for how long? What if the government of the Republic simply sends us back here? Or tries to send us back here right away?”

  Rione shook her head. “Captain Hiyen, the government ordered you to follow the commands of the Alliance. You will be back in the Republic by order of the Alliance. If the Republic wants to counter the orders of the Alliance, it must first revoke the orders placing you under command of the Alliance.”

  Captain Hiyen nod
ded, his eyes bright. “Yes. But how long?”

  “What is the right wording?” Rione asked Geary.

  “Until further notice,” he replied. “Proper military phrasing, proper orders, all in keeping with the requirements that placed those ships under Alliance authority.” Geary turned to Desjani. “Help me get the orders put together as fast as possible. We’ll use the boilerplate wording for detaching part of a force.”

  “We can get it done in five minutes,” Desjani said. “Captain Hiyen, get the word spread of what’s happening just in case we don’t have five minutes. Admiral, you need to talk to the Rift Federation ships, too.”

  “Who is the senior officer from the Rift now?” Geary asked, scanning the display.

  Hiyen answered. “Commander Kapelka on the Passguard.”

  It took a moment to review Kapelka’s record before calling Passguard. Kapelka had a decent record, too. She probably never would have risen beyond command of the heavy cruiser Passguard, but among the few star systems belonging to the Rift Federation, that was a substantial command.

  Geary put in a high-priority call to Passguard.

  Less than a minute later, the image of Commander Kapelka appeared. She was sitting at a conference table, too, and had a harried look to her. Geary wondered who else was sitting at that table and what they had just been arguing about.

  “Your pardon, Admiral, for taking this call here, but it was marked for immediate reply,” Kapelka said. The stress in her voice was obvious, and that stress clearly wasn’t because the admiral had just called.

  “That’s fine,” Geary said, trying to sound calm and routine. “I wanted to notify you of orders for all ships from the Rift Federation. Effective immediately, you are appointed commander of a task force composed of all of the ships from the Rift Federation. That task force is to detach from the main body of the fleet and proceed as soon as possible back to the Rift Federation for refit, repair, and resupply. Your ships are to remain in the Federation until further notice.”