The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Invincible

by Campbell, Jack

  “No. It’s still my fault. We may have lost Invincible because I didn’t act in time when I knew I should.” As if summoned by his words, an alert flashed on his display. “Message from Tanuki, Admiral,” the communications watch announced.

  “Forward it,” Geary ordered, and an instant later the image of Captain Smythe popped up before Geary. Smythe, commanding officer of the auxiliary Tanuki and the senior fleet engineer, for once lacked his usual jaunty attitude. “I’ve personally gone over the damage to Invincible, Admiral. I doubt that you’ll be pleased to hear that your choices are simple and limited.”

  “She’s hurt that badly?” Geary asked.

  Space being as huge as it was, ships were often light-minutes or light-hours apart, leading to incredibly frustrating delays in conversations as messages crawled across millions or billions of kilometers at the speed of light. This time the fleet was close enough together that only a couple of seconds passed before Smythe shrugged in response. “It depends which parts of Invincible you’re talking about. Many of her weapons are actually in surprisingly good shape. But what really matters is the structural and propulsion damage inflicted by those missile ships. It’s severe. Invincible can’t move herself, and if anyone else tries to tow her, she’ll probably crack into a few large pieces. Give me a few months and a fleet dock, and I could get her going again.” Even though that couldn’t happen, Smythe clearly wished he could fix up the wrecked ship.

  “We don’t have either the time or the repair facilities,” Geary said, his eyes going to the part of his display showing considerable numbers of other alien warships, some of them massive but, fortunately, none of them close. After the fleet’s dash away from the orbital fortress guarding the jump point, that menace was now about seven light-minutes distant and getting farther away with every moment. Some of the alien warships were about three light-hours from the human fleet, but the main armada of alien warships had been identified at nearly four light-hours away, near the primary inhabited world in this star system. That armada wouldn’t even see the light from the human fleet’s arrival for another three hours; and then, even if they immediately accelerated on intercepts with the human force, would require days to get within range unless Geary decided to turn and race toward contact. But Invincible couldn’t maneuver, making her a sitting duck even if the aliens had been a week’s travel time distant. Looking at the huge warships that made up the center of the alien armada, superbattleships massing three times as large as the biggest human battleships, Geary had no intention of coming any closer to that armada than he had to. “Exactly what choices do I have, then?”

  “Blow up Invincible or leave her for the, uh, whatever it is that lives here.” Smythe looked and sounded unhappy at having to lay out those options.

  Geary knew that his frustration was showing, but he tried to keep it out of his voice. No one liked delivering bad news, but he had learned long ago how easily a commander could discourage anyone from passing on important information by reacting harshly to the bearers of unpleasant truths. “We can’t leave her. Not when the occupants of this star system have demonstrated such reflexive aggression toward us. I’ll order Invincible’s surviving crew members evacuated immediately. Have your engineers prepare her for scuttling, and make sure it’s complete. I don’t want anything left intact.”

  Smythe nodded. “Invincible’s power core is still online. We can goose the output when we overload it to ensure nothing much is left but dust. However, I would very much appreciate the opportunity to take everything that I can off Invincible before then. She has a lot of equipment we can use instead of manufacturing new components for ships that need them.”

  It should have been an easy decision. To an engineer like Smythe, it simply made sense to recover equipment from Invincible to use as spare parts for other ships. But . . . “Tanya?”

  “Sir?”

  “How would you feel about having parts from Invincible used for repair or replacement on Dauntless?”

  She shook her head. “We don’t need that kind of bad-luck burden, Admiral.”

  He had expected that answer. Sailors hadn’t changed for thousands of years. Why would they have changed in the hundred years that Geary had been locked in survival sleep? But he still tried to argue the point. “During the war with the Syndics, it must have been common to use salvaged parts.”

  “Cannibalized parts,” Desjani corrected. “No. There wasn’t much opportunity, and just as well. When I was aboard Tulwar, we had some components off of the wreck of Buckler installed over our objections during an emergency refit between engagements. The stuff all failed as soon as we went into action.”

  “Hasty work during an emergency refit—”

  “It tested fine, but it was from a dead ship. We lost Tulwar when that gear went bad on us. No one in this fleet will want any pieces of Invincible aboard. Especially nothing from an Invincible.”

  He wanted to order the equipment salvaged anyway, but Geary knew that Tanya’s attitude would be reflected on every ship in his fleet. Particularly given that the ship involved was the latest Invincible. Disbelieving popular superstition that ships named Invincible tended to be destroyed in action faster than other ships, Geary had looked up the statistics. And found in those statistics some grounds for supporting the superstition. Warships had come to have expected life spans measured in a couple of years at the most because of the bloody stalemate the war with the Syndicate Worlds had devolved into before Geary assumed command, but any warship named Invincible tended to have a significantly shorter existence than average. Maybe the living stars did find the name Invincible on a human warship to be too proud and provoking.

  Turning back to Smythe, Geary shook his head. “No. Empty the spare-parts lockers on Invincible, but don’t tear out any installed equipment. I can’t afford the impact on morale of using anything that had been part of Invincible.”

  Smythe assumed the expression of an engineer having to deal with lesser and irrational mortals. “It’s just equipment, Admiral. It’s not alive. It’s not haunted.”

  “Captain Smythe, it’s not worth the headaches it would cause me.” Morale in the fleet balanced on a knife-edge as it was. They should have all been at their homes, enjoying the fruits of victory over the Syndicate Worlds after a war that had lasted a century. But Geary had been ordered to take these ships far from human-explored and -controlled territory to learn more about the threats posed by a nonhuman intelligent species known as the enigmas. He had followed orders, the ships under his command had followed orders, but their officers and crews were war-weary and unhappy. Even a small thing could drop morale to disastrous levels, and to the sailors of this fleet, the use of parts from dead ships was far from a small thing.

  “Tsunami is already coming alongside Invincible to take off her wounded,” Geary told Smythe. “I’m going to tell Tsunami to evacuate the rest of the crew, but she may not have room. Since Tanuki is also close to Invincible, I want her to handle the overflow until we can redistribute the sailors through the fleet.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Smythe paused, then shook his head. “Those sailors are also coming off of Invincible,” he pointed out. “You’re going to reuse them.”

  “Thank you, Captain Smythe.”

  “Do you want me to leave Captain Vente aboard as a special case? I assume you are less than eager to reuse him, and Captain Badaya on Illustrious doesn’t seem to want him.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Even before his latest failure, Vente’s arrogance and can’t-do attitude had managed to get him on the wrong side of nearly every other officer in the fleet. Vente had also made a habit of balking at orders from Badaya, who was in charge of the Sixth Battle Cruiser Division, to which Invincible belonged. “Is that all, Captain Smythe?”

  “Not quite.” Smythe smiled. “We can rig Invincible so she doesn’t blow until the aliens here try to board her.”

  That was even more tempting. Geary’s eyes went to the casualty list from the recent engagemen
t. These aliens had attacked without even trying to determine the intent of the human fleet and had thus far refused to communicate or respond to messages from the humans . . .

  But a desire for vengeance was a lousy basis for making a decision of so much importance. “No, Captain Smythe. We don’t know if it will be possible to eventually work with whatever these beings are. A booby trap like that might permanently poison any chance of relations, though I admit the odds of ever developing peaceful ones look pretty slim at the moment.”

  “A powerful lesson of what we can do to those who want to fight us might help convince them not to underestimate us, Admiral,” Smythe suggested.

  That was a good point. Geary pondered it for a moment.

  Desjani spoke up while he was still thinking. “We don’t know what these creatures can do. We don’t know what tech they have. Maybe they could override whatever trigger we use on the booby trap. If that happened, they’d have Invincible and all of her human tech almost intact.”

  Smythe frowned, then nodded. “That is a very good point.”

  “Then rig Invincible to scuttle once our own ships are clear,” Geary ordered.

  “Very well, Admiral. We’re on it. Oh, Kupua just reported to me that she has completed an evaluation of that main propulsion unit on Orion and estimates she will have the unit going again in ten hours. Until then, Orion can keep up as long as you don’t do anything wild with the fleet.” Just before breaking the connection, Smythe sighed theatrically. “All that equipment on Invincible . . .”

  Geary looked over at Desjani. “I thought you would have supported the idea of turning Invincible into a trap.”

  She flipped a brief smile his way. “I have to keep you guessing. Besides, I was just being pragmatic.”

  On the heels of her words, another message arrived—the senior fleet medical officer beaming at Geary. “Admiral, uncrewed probes examining what’s left of some of the alien attackers have found partial remains. Not a lot, and most of them are just small fragments, but we should be able to piece something together.”

  That sounded ugly. “Can you tell if they were human or enigmas?”

  The doctor appeared startled at the question. “No. Definitely not. We’re still trying to determine what they are, but I can tell you what they aren’t.”

  So this was a second intelligent alien race, and it, too, was an alien race whose response to encountering humans was to attack. “Those ships that went after us had crews? All of them? They weren’t automated?”

  “Crews? Yes. The craft we could examine, that is. There isn’t much left of many of the ships. We could have used more intact specimens, Admiral,” the doctor added in an almost scolding tone of voice.

  “I’ll keep that in mind the next time we face an immediate close-in fight with large numbers of attack craft belonging to an unknown alien species.”

  “Thank you,” the doctor replied, oblivious to the sarcasm. “I do understand that things were a bit difficult, and, therefore, circumstances were not ideal for ensuring the best conditions for specimens. These craft were suicide attackers?”

  “That’s right.” The tactics were disquietingly like those employed by the enigmas. Would every alien species they encountered turn out to be careless of not only human lives but also their own? “How long until we can get a picture of them?”

  The doctor made a baffled gesture. “We’re putting together a puzzle without knowing what the picture looks like, Admiral. There’s no telling how long it might take.”

  “Thank you. Let me know the moment you have something recognizable.” He might regret that order, since doctors could dispassionately examine things that churned the stomachs of average people. As a junior officer, he had learned the hard way that you should never sit down for a meal at a table occupied by doctors engaged in shop talk.

  But that conversation brought up another matter. He was in danger of missing important things because so much was happening so quickly. Geary tapped his own communications controls. “Captain Tulev.”

  Tulev, aboard his own battle cruiser Leviathan, gazed back at Geary, Tulev’s broad face betraying no excitement, just calm competence. “Yes, Admiral?”

  “We can’t leave anything behind here. I want you to use your battle cruisers, and any other cruisers or destroyers you deem necessary, to collect all possible debris from damaged or destroyed Alliance warships. Stay at the task until you’re satisfied it is complete even as the rest of the fleet moves off.” The battle cruisers, cruisers, and destroyers could much more easily catch up to the rest of the fleet than any battleships or auxiliaries. “In particular, ensure that no bodies are left floating out there.”

  “Yes, Admiral. I will ensure that no one will be left behind. All human remains will be recovered.”

  Geary leaned back, grateful that he could trust Tulev to coolly focus on picking up any human vestiges, whether bodies or equipment. But that brought thoughts of the aliens back to the forefront. He pivoted in his seat to look at the back of the bridge. Both emissaries of the Alliance government were still there. Retired General Charban was looking steadily forward with a bleak expression. Former Senator Rione stood beside him, her own face revealing little as usual. “Any responses yet to our attempts at communication?” Geary asked them.

  “No,” Rione answered. “These beings may be allies of the enigmas, Admiral. That could be why they attacked us as soon as they saw us. The enigmas could have used their faster-than-light communications ability to warn them that we were coming.”

  Charban frowned. “That is possible. But . . .” He looked forward again as if somehow seeing through Dauntless’s hull. “Those forts at all of the jump points, and in particular the fort at the jump point we arrived at. None of that was built overnight. The fortifications argue that if these creatures are allies of the enigmas, they are distrustful allies.”

  “Wouldn’t you be distrustful of the enigmas?” Desjani demanded.

  “To be sure, Captain, I would,” Charban said.

  Rione slowly nodded in agreement. “They could have gotten here by now. The enigmas who were pursuing us. But they have not arrived to join in the attack on us. My suggestion was wrong.”

  “Do you have any other suggestions?” Geary asked, wondering if Rione would finally break out of the odd passivity she had shown since the start of the mission.

  “Yes. Leave this star system as soon as you can arrange it.”

  “I’ve already been advised to do that,” Geary assured her. “And I have every intention of doing so. You emissaries keep trying to talk to whatever we’re dealing with here. Tell them that all we want to do is leave, though we would be happy to establish peaceful relations with them. We’ll leave quietly if we can, but if they insist on opposing us, we’ll take whatever actions are necessary.”

  On Geary’s display, the confused welter of human warships was slowly forming back into a recognizable formation, except where Captain Smythe’s Tanuki and the attack transport Tsunami hung near the broken shape of Invincible, and where Captain Tulev was directing a scratch force in the task of collecting debris and bodies.

  That left one more urgent task. Geary tapped his internal comm controls this time. “Intelligence. Is Lieutenant Iger down there?”

  “Here, Admiral.” Iger had a harried look but composed himself as he faced Geary. “We’re analyzing everything we can, sir.”

  “Can you tell me anything about the creatures in this star system?”

  “Not yet, Admiral,” Iger confessed. “There’s a lot of video being transmitted, but it’s in some very strange format that we haven’t been able to break so far. Not coded like the enigma stuff, just very different from how we do things. We’ll get it. All I can say with confidence is that, whatever they are, there are a lot of them in this star system.”

  To one side of the intelligence officer’s image, another picture appeared, that of the primary inhabited world orbiting this star. The image zoomed in at Iger’s command, resolving
into a curiously rectangular landscape. “Those are buildings, sir. All of it. They’ve got soil and plants on the roofs, but as far as we can tell, almost all of the land surface area on that planet is covered with buildings or roads. From a few construction or repair locations we can see, it appears that all of the buildings extend at least several stories underground and several stories aboveground as well.”

  Geary tried to grasp that level of population density and failed. “Where do they get food?”

  “The buildings, Admiral. Some of them, or some of the floors in them, are vertical farms. You can see the crops on almost all of the roofs.”

  “How many of these creatures are there?”

  Iger almost shrugged, then caught himself. Junior officers did not shrug at admirals. “The planet is a little smaller than Earth-standard, sir, and has less land area. But it depends a great deal upon how large they are. As individuals, I mean. If they are roughly comparable to humans . . .” Iger looked to one side of the screen as he ran some numbers. “Something on the order of twenty billion.”

  “Twenty billion? On one planet of that size?”

  “If they’re roughly the same size as we are,” Lieutenant Iger said.

  “Let me know when you learn more,” Geary ordered, then sat back again, rubbing his forehead. “What am I forgetting?” he asked Desjani.

  “The fortresses,” she answered.

  “I haven’t forgotten the damned fortresses. They’re impressive as hell, but they’re still targets in fixed orbits. We’ll throw enough rocks at them to—” Geary stopped as Desjani shook her head. “What?”

  “You’re right,” she said. “They are targets. So why were they built? Why are they still here? Why hasn’t someone else blown them away already? I loathe the enigmas, but I know they’re smart enough to throw rocks at minor planet-sized targets. Yet whatever lives here has gone to tremendous effort to build those fortresses. Have you noticed how few asteroids are in this star system? They must have used most of their asteroids to build those things, and, unless they’re simply crazy, they shouldn’t have done that if the fortresses were just targets.”