“Yes, sir. That’s a mix of big and little moles because we’ve got orders to get this stuff loaded and the cows back on the shuttles as fast as possible.”
“Right. Thanks, Chief. I appreciate the rundown.” Geary broke the link, blinking to focus his own eyes back on the display showing his fleet. So far, so good, which was the first time in a while he felt like saying that.
Desjani yawned. “Excuse me, sir.”
“I feel the same way. At least I got to learn about the cows the engineers are using.”
“Cows?” Desjani gave Geary a skeptical look.
“Yeah. Cows with worms and moles.”
She grinned. “Are you sure you weren’t talking to the cooks about what the fleet is feeding us?”
Food. How long had he been on the bridge, anyway? Geary’s stomach rumbled.
Desjani smiled again, dug in one pocket, and offered him a ration bar. “I always carry a few.”
“Thanks. Remind me to say something about your ability to plan ahead when I write your next evaluation.” Geary took the ration bar, debated whether he should read the label or just guess what it contained, then decided he’d rather not know. That was something else that hadn’t changed in a century. In a misguided attempt to satisfy individual tastes and reflect the diversity of the Alliance member worlds, the ration bars were allegedly formulated to fit the widely varying cuisines of many planets and regions. Instead, the flavors the fleet came up with somehow managed to revolt everyone, regardless of place of origin.
He opened the wrapper, took a bite, shuddered, then finally glanced at the label. “Forshukyen Solos? What the hell is that?” Geary checked the fine print. “ ‘A favorite meal on the worlds of the Hokaiden Star System.’ I bet.”
“Try to avoid the Danaka Yoruk bars,” Desjani advised.
“They still make those? When they came out, we wanted them to be traded to the Syndics, but—” But we were afraid the Syndics would start a war if we did. That joke was a lot funnier before the Syndics did start a war.
Desjani had the sense not to ask about the way Geary had broken off his sentence. “I think they stopped making those bars a long time ago but are still trying to get rid of the ones they made.” She laughed, the lines worn by years of war easing and her face looking younger than usual.
Geary grinned back at her, grateful that even with someone who thought him a mythical hero he could complain about the fleet’s food. The familiar banter made him feel less out of place, offering a connection to the people and places he’d once known.
The trace elements his auxiliaries needed were rapidly flowing into Titan’s cows. Geary studied the movement of his fleet, feeling a headache rising again as he saw how close the timeline was now. Even the smallest delay would require him to waste time and fuel cells in a braking maneuver.
As if on cue, an alert pulsed on his display tracking the situation on the moon’s surface. Even as Geary was focusing on it, Colonel Carabali’s face appeared again. “The Syndics in the mine shafts are trying to come out. They’re exchanging fire with the Marines guarding the exits from the shafts.”
The last thing he needed was a ground engagement. Maybe the Syndics had figured that out and were willing to expend some of their people just to slow the Alliance fleet down a little more. Geary took a deep breath, leaning back to think, and his eyes came to rest on the fleet display. Oh, hell. For once this is easy. “Colonel Carabali, prepare to pull your Marines back toward the shuttles. Make sure Titan’s cows remain covered until they’re loaded and their shuttles take off.”
The Marine colonel frowned slightly. “Cows, sir?”
“The Moo-Moos.” That sounded ridiculous. “The Mobile Mining Units.”
“Oh. Yes, sir. Sir, the moment we start pulling my Marines back, the Syndics are going to come out of those holes.”
“I don’t think so, Colonel. Not with Exemplar and Braveheart throwing hell lances at them. How big a no-fire zone do you need to be comfortable with those ships firing near your Marines?”
Carabali’s frown deepened. “With all due respect, sir, we prefer to be as far away as possible when the fleet is bombarding an area.”
Understandable, perhaps, but not too helpful. Geary looked over at Desjani. “How accurate should hell-lance fire from Exemplar and Braveheart be if they start shooting at the Syndics on the surface again? The Marines are worried.”
Desjani snorted. “With those two ships that close to the targets and at a dead stop relative to them? It’d be impossible under those circumstances for a hell lance to miss a target by any meaningful margin of error, by which I mean something measured in less than a centimeter. Those Marines could be ten meters away from an aim point and be perfectly safe.”
Geary didn’t think he’d personally be willing to stand ten meters from a hell-lance aim point but didn’t say so aloud. “Colonel, how about two hundred meters for a no fire zone between your Marines and the bombardment from the ships?”
“Could you make it three hundred, sir?”
Oh, for—Then again, I did order the Marines into the facility in the face of the possibility it was a trap. I owe them one. “All right. Three hundred. Once your closest Marine is three hundred meters away from the mine shafts occupied by the Syndics, Exemplar and Braveheart will open fire on any Syndics trying to leave the shafts.”
The Marine’s face brightened. “Could you make it a rolling barrage, sir? As my people pull back, the ships can walk their bombardment through the facility behind them, getting a head start on demolishing it and discouraging pursuit.”
“Excellent suggestion, Colonel. I’ll pass those orders on to Exemplar and Braveheart.” Another message popped up. “The cows have picked up everything we need and are on the way to their shuttles.”
“I’ll prepare my Marines to fall back toward them.” Carabali’s image saluted and vanished.
Geary called up the two scout battleships, ensured they understood their orders, and added a requirement to ensure the facility was wrecked except for one small set of rooms and their associated life support. Life wouldn’t be easy for the Syndics left behind until the inhabited world in this system sent ships to lift them off, but since they could easily have been slaughtered to the last individual by the Alliance ships, Geary didn’t think they had any grounds for complaints.
Things were finally happening again, though at a seemingly glacial pace as the symbols marking Marines and the cows fell back toward their respective shuttles. Used to dealing with velocities measured in tenths of the speed of light, Geary found himself amazed at how long it took something on the surface to go a few hundred meters.
It took the Syndics a very short while to figure out that the Marines were withdrawing; then scattered figures began pouring out of the exits from the mine shafts. But the nearest Alliance Marines were still within three hundred meters. Geary crossed his fingers, but both scout battleships held their fire as the Syndics moved in pursuit of the slowly withdrawing Marines.
At this rate the Marines would never get three hundred meters from the enemy.
But maybe that wouldn’t matter. Exemplar and then Braveheart opened fire, their hell lances dancing across the area near the mine shaft exits, the charged-particle spears slashing through metal, rock, and human bodies. Geary stared as symbols marking Syndics simply vanished in quick succession as hell lances scored direct hits on the individual enemies and vaporized them as well as everything else in the immediate area.
The Syndics closest to the Marines were still within three hundred meters, but their movement halted as they saw the havoc being wreaked behind them. A natural reaction, and exactly the wrong one. The Marines kept withdrawing, the nearest enemies fell outside the three hundred meter no-fire zone, and the hell lances blew the Syndic defenders to atoms.
No more enemy shapes could be seen on the surface by the fleet’s sensors. It was possible a few members of the Syndic pursuit force had survived, hidden under the wreckage of the facility as E
xemplar and Braveheart enthusiastically pounded it into scrap. But it didn’t matter, since nothing moved in the firing zone now but structures collapsing and debris flying away from the sites of hits.
Safely separated from the devastation, the shuttles carrying the cows lifted from the surface. Around them, the last Marines were falling back by sections into their own shuttles. As Geary watched, the Marine shuttles leaped into space behind the heavy-lift shuttles loaded with the cows, escorting the trace elements needed back to Titan, from which they could be distributed to the other auxiliaries.
Another two minutes and Geary would have had to slow the fleet down to allow the shuttles to catch up. But the shuttles could still manage an intercept now.
He let out a long breath. One more crisis surmounted.
I wonder what the next one will be.
“Congratulations to everyone who helped make the last operation a success.” Geary nodded toward Colonel Carabali, Captain Tyrosian, and Commander Lommand, and the commanding officers of Exemplar and Braveheart. “Captain Tyrosian informs me that the necessary trace elements are being distributed among the four auxiliaries as we speak. Expendable weapons and fuel cells the auxiliaries have already manufactured have been delivered to warships. As soon as the final deliveries have been made and the shuttles recovered, we’ll head for the jump point out of Baldur.”
Not everyone seemed to share Geary’s sentiments about Tyrosian and Lommand. Captain Casia from Conqueror and Commander Yin from Orion smiled approvingly at the commanding officers of the scout battleships but bent lowered brows toward the two engineering officers. Geary took a moment to scan down the very long virtual table, trying to gauge how many other commanding officers were following the lead of Casia and Yin. There didn’t seem to be many, but it wasn’t easy to tell, and Geary suspected his most dangerous opponents within the fleet wouldn’t be as obvious about their hostility as Casia and Yin.
Still, it was both aggravating and important to know that those who disapproved of Geary’s command of the fleet were trying to use the engineers as a wedge issue with the other ship commanders.
“Captain Geary,” a new voice spoke up. It took Geary a moment to realize who it was, aided by the meeting software, which helpfully highlighted a name not far down the table. Captain Badaya of the Illustrious. He was also commander of what was left of the Sixth Battle Cruiser Division, which now consisted only of Illustrious and Incredible. “Captain Geary,” Badaya repeated slowly, as if still thinking through his words, “before we discuss other matters, there’s something I wanted to bring up. We face major difficulties to get back to Alliance space and can’t spend much time considering means of harming the Syndics where it will hurt them the most. The sort of thing we did at Sancere. I’ve been thinking about what happened at Sancere.”
That could mean many things, and Badaya didn’t seem to be challenging his authority, so Geary just nodded to acknowledge the statement and waited.
“The hypernet gate at Sancere,” Badaya suggested. “When it collapsed, there was an energy pulse that strained the shields of our ships. I understand that the actions of Dauntless, Daring, and Diamond prevented the pulse from being even worse.” He paused.
Badaya’s words were straying onto territory that Geary preferred to avoid, but he couldn’t think of any way to shut down the other officer without drawing even more attention to the topic. For once, Geary was grateful that Victoria Rione wasn’t present in the meeting. If she had been, he probably couldn’t have avoided a quick look her way that might have conveyed to others that she and Geary shared information that they hadn’t provided to the others present. “That’s correct,” Geary stated calmly.
“Could we use that?” Badaya wondered. “It might offer the means to inflict serious damage on enemy star systems as we make our way home, and in a small fraction of the time required to reduce a system using conventional means.”
It might indeed. It might also trigger the genocidal warfare that Geary feared. He was searching for an answer, knowing that whatever he said might have very serious repercussions, when Captain Cresida answered in regretful tones. “Captain Geary asked me about that,” she stated, “and I had to tell him that the energy output seems to be unpredictable. It might amount to a lot less than we experienced, or even nothing.”
Captain Tulev nodded judiciously. “And we hope to use such a gate to get home.” No one disagreed with that. Instead of having to skip from star to star using the old jump drives, the hypernet could not only take them directly to a Syndic star system bordering on the Alliance but also do it far faster than travel through jump space. “If we destroyed it instead, we couldn’t use it.”
“Loss of benefit to us and the chance of no damage to the Syndic star system,” Captain Duellos observed. “An interesting suggestion, Captain Badaya, but it may not be practical for us.”
Badaya frowned but nodded as well. “That’s true. I guess it’s not a viable option right now. We should keep it in mind, though.”
Geary tried to look thoughtful. “Thank you, Captain. That’s an intriguing possibility. I appreciate you bringing it up.” Like hell. I wish you’d never said a word. Forgive me the lie, ancestors. It’s not to benefit me but to possibly save uncounted others. He lowered his head for a moment, thinking and wondering at the way both Cresida and Tulev had jumped in to quash the idea of using hypernet gates as weapons. Cresida knew, of course, because she’d developed the targeting algorithms that had kept Sancere’s hypernet gate from putting out a nova-scale blast. But Tulev didn’t. Or did he? Was there a group of officers aware that hypernet gates could be used to wipe out the human race in a mutual burst of genocide, and determined to help Geary suppress that knowledge as long as possible?
What would they do with that knowledge in the long run if they decided Geary wasn’t using it properly?
He had to move on, get the subject out of the minds of the officers present. Fortunately, he had just the topic guaranteed to do that. “I’ve been considering our next course of action. As you know, I intended taking the fleet to Wendaya from here. I’ve been reconsidering that.”
A ripple of reaction ran around the virtual table. Geary studied the expressions of his commanding officers, not liking what he was seeing. Enthusiasm seemed nonexistent, even among his firmest supporters. But only Captain Casia spoke out. “We’re barely closer to Alliance space now than when we left the Syndic home system,” he complained.
“I didn’t bring this fleet to the Syndic home system,” Geary reminded Casia. “It’s a long way home. I can’t help that.” He paused, gauging reactions again. Too many officers were gazing at the star display with resigned or worried expressions. “We need to try something different, though. We’ve been avoiding jumping along a straight line to Alliance space to avoid Syndic traps, but the Syndics are starting to figure out that we’re doing that.”
He had them again, every officer listening closely, but Casia swept a hand toward the display. “We’re not going to retreat again, are we?”
The question was perfectly phrased, so perfectly that Geary wondered if Casia had come up with it himself or if a more capable officer opposed to Geary had fed him the line. It was exactly the sort of query that would undermine Geary and any plan he suggested.
But it appeared he’d been able to outmaneuver his adversaries in the fleet this time. “No,” Geary informed Casia, his eyes hard. “I intend taking the fleet on a dash toward Alliance space, seeing how far we can get before the Syndics figure out what we’re trying and attempt to tighten the noose around this fleet again. We should be able to make substantial distance toward home and throw off Syndic plans based on the assumption that we won’t act that way.”
Faces brightened all along the table, though this time Geary noted that Captains Duellos, Tulev, and Cresida seemed a bit wary, as if concerned that he had conceded to Casia. There wasn’t anything he could do to make everyone happy, it seemed.
Then again, it wasn’t his duty to
make people happy.
Geary pointed at the display. “Instead of jumping for Wendaya, from here we’ll go to Sendai, then straight through to Daiquon, and if everything seems clear, on to Ixion.” Bright lines appeared on the display, forming a slightly bent arrow aimed at Alliance space.
“That’ll take us almost a third of the remaining distance home!” Commander Neeson noted with a smile.
“Surely the Syndics will figure out our path before we reach Ixion,” Captain Mosko of the battleship Defiant replied with a worried expression.
“I would think so,” Captain Tulev agreed. “Captain Geary, do I understand properly that we will evaluate the situation in each star system before jumping to the next?”
“That’s correct,” Geary confirmed. “I expect the Syndics to figure out we’ve changed our approach to getting back to Alliance space. Once they do so, they’ll be able to use their hypernet system to shift forces more rapidly than we can move and set up blocking forces again. But I think we’ve got a very good chance of making Daiquon without serious opposition, and a decent chance of being able to get to Ixion.”
He seemed to have them. Geary felt a momentary rush of annoyance, angry that he had to convince them rather than just tell them what to do. It wasn’t like he’d made endless mistakes since reluctantly assuming command of this fleet. But it seemed he had to prove himself again every day to the doubters. “We’ll take advantage of the times in jump space for the auxiliaries to manufacture more fuel cells and expendable munitions, and distribute those among the other ships during our transits of Sendai and Daiquon. If we proceed on to Ixion, I want us to be ready for anything.”
Captain Casia was still frowning. “And after Ixion? Will we continue toward home?”
Geary fought down an intense desire to wrap his hands around Casia’s neck. Fortunately, just the mental image of Casia’s face turning purple as Geary squeezed cheered Geary enough to calm him before he replied. “This fleet’s course is ultimately always toward home,” he stated evenly. “But I’m not making detailed plans four star systems ahead. We will have to take into account what the Syndics are doing by the time we reach Ixion.”
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