The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught Page 6

  “I thought the government had seen my report, Senator. The Syndic CEO we had captive said those impressions that you had sold out were deliberately created by the Syndics to harm the Alliance government.”

  Navarro smiled again though in a pained way. “Facts, Admiral, do not play a major role in the perceptions of some individuals. Though I did appreciate the exoneration. Now, Admiral Geary, are you prepared to carry out your orders?”

  “He should either accept the authority of the government or not,” Suva argued. “We can’t constantly be asking him if his orders are acceptable to him.”

  “I will carry out my orders to the best of my ability,” Geary said, before any further debate could erupt over his earlier actions. “But entering alien space and attempting to communicate with them may prove very difficult. Not that I want to fight them again, but as Senator Sakai surely told you, the aliens showed no interest in negotiating or peaceful relations during the encounter our fleet had with them.”

  “Perhaps after the losses you inflicted on them,” Navarro said, “they’ll be more willing to talk. We need a better grasp not only of their strength and technology but also who they are and how they think.”

  “We know they can be ruthless,” Geary pointed out. “They destroyed their own damaged ships to keep us from capturing any of them and learning anything about them.”

  “Yes.” Navarro visibly hesitated, looking to both Suva and Sakai again, both of whom nodded back firmly. “But that makes it all the more critical that we know more about them. What do they look like? What are their cities like? What kind of culture do they have? If we can learn those things, perhaps we’ll learn how to avoid further belligerence.”

  “Senator Navarro, I feel obligated to point out just how dangerous this mission could be. We have no idea what kind of defenses the aliens might have within the region of space they occupy, nor how many warships they might have.”

  “I worried about those same issues, Admiral, but that’s why you must go! It’s simply unacceptable, scientifically, morally, and in terms of risk, for us to know so little of the first intelligent nonhuman species we’ve encountered.” Navarro glanced at the display and pointed to the representation of Varandal’s hypernet gate there. “Humanity’s ignorance was almost our undoing. We might have wiped ourselves out, or crippled our species beyond hope of recovery, thanks to attractive but potentially deadly gifts we didn’t know we had received from aliens we didn’t know existed.”

  “You will have a secondary mission,” Senator Sakai added. “The Alliance also needs firsthand reports, as timely as possible, about what is happening within Syndic territory. Our ability to collect information within Syndic space is fragmentary and mostly confined to star systems close to the border with the Alliance. Which star systems does the Syndicate Worlds’ central government still control, which have declared independence, which are fighting the central government or each other, which are a developing threat to not just their neighbors but in time to the Alliance itself? You must travel through Syndic space in order to reach the border with the aliens, which will give you the opportunity for firsthand collection of information deep within Syndic territory.”

  Geary added it all up. “That’s quite an opportunity to excel, Senator.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean that it is a demanding set of orders. But I’ll do my best,” he repeated, “as I know every man and woman in the fleet will as well.”

  “Then this meeting is completed,” Suva said.

  “In that case, it’s probably best that I get out of here and back where I can communicate with the outside, so I can ensure that the situation is back under control.”

  Navarro looked toward the unmoving ships on the frozen display, but Suva had her eyes on Geary. “You will receive confirmation of these orders from your fleet headquarters, Admiral,” she said.

  “I may need some extra authority when dealing with fleet headquarters to ensure that I get the ships and supplies I need for this assignment.”

  Senator Suva smiled reassuringly. “Certainly.”

  The promise had been given too easily. Victoria Rione’s voice whispered in Geary’s head. Don’t trust anyone any more than you have to. But he couldn’t see what could be gained by pushing the point at this time. The politicians would just provide more verbal assurances and wouldn’t provide any written guarantees. Better to get the current situation stabilized, then push for whatever he needed in the future.

  Navarro alone walked Geary to the hatch and followed him out. “Give Admiral Geary an escort to help him get back out through the checkpoints as quickly as possible,” Navarro told the commandos standing guard outside.

  “Yes, sir.” Beckoning to four other commandos, the major in charge saluted Geary. “Sir, if you’ll permit us to escort you?”

  “I’d be honored. But we do have to hurry.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  They rushed through the next three checkpoints, at each one the commandos making gestures to the soldiers on guard that all was well, producing not-entirely-suppressed smiles. Tension seemed to be draining out of the air as he went, the soldiers’ attitudes relaxing even though they maintained rigidly correct postures, presenting arms instead of just passing Geary through. He saluted them in return, trying not to let his own worries show.

  As Geary cleared the third checkpoint, he must have also passed out of the jamming zone. The major’s comm unit chimed. The soldier gave Geary a questioning look, got a quick nod of approval in reply, and answered the call. “There’s a general call out for you, Admiral. Urgent request for you to contact a Captain Desjani.”

  “May I borrow your comm unit?” Fortunately, the government-issue units were standardized, so he didn’t have to figure out how to work a piece of ground forces equipment as he punched in the familiar contact data. “Tanya?”

  “Where are you, Admiral?” Desjani asked, her voice clipped but also very calm.

  The security jamming still had enough effect to block any video, but her tone of voice told him that the situation hadn’t resolved itself yet. “I’m halfway back out through the security cordons and heading for you. What’s going on?”

  “Your second message helped a lot, but I’ve still had limited success with controlling the situation. Rumors are proliferating faster than we can shut them down. We still have warships out of their assigned orbital positions and vectoring toward Ambaru station.”

  “I saw a bit of that. Why didn’t they respond to my second order?”

  Desjani’s voice stayed calm but got colder. “Questions have been raised as to whether it was authentic or some disinformation cobbled together by the government to keep the fleet quiet.”

  He had trouble controlling his own anger when he heard that. “Where’s Admiral Timbale?”

  “In the central command compartment. He’s trying to keep the other military forces in Varandal from reacting to the ship movements. I strongly recommend another personal statement from Admiral Geary to the fleet, and I recommend it be sent out five minutes ago.”

  Geary stared down the empty corridor he was now rushing through, his commando escorts keeping up on both sides. “You don’t even know what other news I have.”

  “Whatever your news is, it can’t be worse than what I’ve had to work with,” Desjani replied.

  He tapped his unit irritably. “I still can’t get a broadcast link from where I am with this comm unit. Can I relay through your comm unit?”

  “I believe so, Admiral. Wait one. Got it. Voice only. You will have a broadcast link in three . . . two . . . one . . . now.”

  The broadcast icon popped up on Geary’s comm unit display. He slowed down to keep from breathing hard from exertion as he held the device closer to his mouth and began speaking clearly. “All units in the Alliance fleet, this is Admiral Geary. All ships are to return to assigned orbital stations immediately. I do not want to have to repeat this order again.” He let a full measure of anger and disapp
ointment sound as he said that. Should he threaten the errant warships with relief of their commanding officers if they didn’t obey this time? No. Let his expectations be clear and give the officers responsible for overreacting some way of covering their retreat without seeming to surrender. In this fleet, with its concepts of honor, threats might well backfire.

  “The fleet headquarters message,” Geary continued, “which notified the fleet of pending charges against numerous commanding officers in the fleet, has been canceled effective immediately.” The senators hadn’t actually told him that in so many words, but this was no time to leave any ambiguities hanging. “I say again, the fleet headquarters message is canceled. No actions ordered by that message remain in effect, and it will not be retransmitted. I will be proceeding directly from Ambaru station to my flagship, and once aboard Dauntless, I will immediately hold a conference to brief all commanding officers on the situation. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”

  He took another deep breath, keying off the broadcast link before speaking to Desjani again. “How was that?”

  “Acceptable.”

  “Thanks. Assuming things calm down, you and I will need a shuttle to Dauntless.”

  “I already ordered one dispatched. It’s about fifteen minutes out from docking. Where do you want it brought in?”

  Good question. Already worn-out, Geary considered a nice, secure, and more isolated military dock. But he realized the tension within Varandal hadn’t dissipated by a long shot. Plenty of people must have felt something was wrong even if they hadn’t noticed warships on the move. I need to show everyone that everything is fine. Civilians as well as military. “Make it a civilian dock. Ask Admiral Timbale to deploy the same soldiers who were working crowd control when we got here to set up things at whatever dock gets assigned. Don’t try to seal it off. Let people see us and see that everything is okay.”

  “I understand, Admiral,” Desjani said, her tones getting a little sharp again. “I will be happy to assist you.”

  Ouch. “If you please, Captain.”

  “Certainly, Admiral. I am happy to report that all ships off station seem to be turning around. I don’t think any of them wanted to find out what would happen if you had to give that order a fourth time.”

  “Thanks, Tanya.”

  He closed the call, handing the comm unit back to the major with his thanks. The major took the unit with an awed expression. Would he keep it, Geary wondered, or put it up for auction as a device actually used by Black Jack himself?

  Geary took it slower after that, walking at a good but not hurried pace, now wanting to convey a lack of anxiety to anyone watching. Calm continued to spread through the station. The last few checkpoints were passed with the soldiers not even bothering to check him through this time but just making shows of saluting him.

  Geary dutifully returned every salute, surprised to see that the old gesture of respect was spreading so quickly through the rest of the military. When he had been awakened from survival sleep, only the Marines had still retained saluting. The rest of the military, scarred and bled white repeatedly by the never-ending war, had let the custom lapse. “Did your chain of command order everyone to start using salutes?” he asked the major.

  “No, Admiral Geary,” the commando said, his shy smile at strange odds with the number of battle awards he wore on his left breast and the scars mottling one side of his face. “The fleet’s sailors came in doing it, and they said you thought it was a good idea, so everyone else is picking up on it. Our ancestors did it. We should. No one had to order anyone, sir. Although . . . well, it was a little hard to start copying Marines.”

  Geary grinned although feeling awkward again that a veteran of so much combat should be overwhelmed by him. “There are worse fates, Major . . . ?”

  “Sirandi, sir,” the major said, coming to attention for a moment.

  “Sirandi?” Where have I heard that name? On the old Kutar. “I served with a Lieutenant Sirandi on a destroyer. He was from . . . Drina.”

  The major’s eyes widened in astonishment. “My family has relatives on Drina.”

  “Perhaps he’s one of them.” Geary paused as time rushed over him again. He hadn’t looked up the fate of Lieutenant Sirandi, as he had avoided learning about the deaths of most of those he had once known, but the man had surely died long ago, either in battle or from old age. “Perhaps he was one of them, I mean.”

  Major Sirandi’s eyes were shining. “It is a great honor to know one of my ancestors served with you, Admiral Geary.”

  Trying to shake off the melancholy that still threatened to hit him when reminded in a personal way of the century lost to survival sleep, Geary shook his head. “The honor is mine, to have served with him, and now to be in the service while you are as well. Your ancestors, the ancestors of all of you,” he said to the other soldiers, “are surely proud of you for the way you honor them with your lives of duty and sacrifice.”

  The phrase sounded old-fashioned, and it was for these soldiers even if it had been in common use in Geary’s time; but for some reason that seemed to please the soldiers even more. Tradition meant a lot, especially when other certainties had been rocked on their foundations. As they walked onward, Geary took careful looks at the commandos, seeing that the major and most of the others had not just the combat awards but also the brooding eyes of veterans who had seen too many things and lost too many friends. They might be demobilized someday, sent off to rejoin the civilian world, but they would never truly be civilians again. “How are the ground forces doing?” Geary asked. “Is there much demobilization going on?”

  Major Sirandi hesitated, his lips pressing together tightly for a moment. “Do I have permission to speak freely, Admiral?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is very disorganized right now. Some units are told they will disband immediately, others told there will be no major downsizing. Then the next day everybody is told the opposite of what they were told before. Our own unit has been informed that we will remain active, but I don’t know.” The major paused again. “I have tried to imagine what I would do. I don’t know. All my life I’ve trained to fight, and I have fought. It’s what I know.”

  The other commandos nodded in agreement, even the younger ones. “My family served for three generations in the war,” one of them said. “I always knew I would serve when I grew up. Now, I don’t know what the future is.”

  “You’re not alone in that,” Geary said, surprised to hear these soldiers expressing the same sentiments he had spoken of to Tanya. “None of us know what the future holds.”

  The soldiers exchanged quick glances, none of them saying what they doubtless all believed, that Black Jack, rumored to have spent his century of survival sleep among the living stars, might indeed know more than other men and women.

  “You have your Marines in the fleet, Admiral Geary,” Major Sirandi said in a sudden rush. “But if you need good commandos, men and women who can fight better than anyone, please remember us.”

  Geary met his eyes. “Major, rest assured that I will remember you, and everyone else here.”

  A minute later, the major’s comm unit chimed again. “Dock 71 Beta,” he reported to Geary. “Your shuttle is docking there.”

  “Thank you,” Geary said. “That’s Captain Desjani?”

  “Just a text, Admiral. It also says . . .” The major frowned in puzzlement. “ ‘Mother was right.’ ”

  Geary couldn’t help grinning. “It’s . . . a code, Major.” Of sorts. He remembered the shock on the face of Desjani’s mother when they’d met her on Kosatka, and the first words her mother had spoken to Tanya. You are going to have a very interesting life, Tanya. Just remember, if it gets too interesting, that you chose it.

  They had cleared all but the last security checkpoint when Admiral Timbale came toward them. The commandos stayed walking with Geary but fell back a few steps so he could talk to Timbale privately. “Is everything all right on your end?”


  “For the moment,” Timbale said. “I’ll be happy once the extra troops and assorted senators leave, and my station starts getting back to normal. I take it you have orders now?”

  “You’re talking to the new commander of the First Fleet.” Geary waved to encompass the whole star system.

  “I hope congratulations are in order.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Is Dauntless part of your fleet?”

  “Yes.” Geary hadn’t had a chance to let that soak in before now, to realize that his orders would not force a separation from Tanya.

  Timbale grimaced. “We don’t have much time before we get to the dock, but there’s one other thing I should tell you while I have a chance to speak privately, something I heard rumblings about. Maybe just scuttlebutt, but it sounded legitimate to me. Have you wondered why your orders didn’t send Dauntless and her commanding officer off to one end of the Alliance and you off to the other end?”

  “To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t gotten around to wondering about that yet,” Geary said. “Though I had worried about the possibility.”

  “It’s not out of concern for your happiness. You and Desjani maintained a professional relationship while you were single.” Timbale gave him an apologetic look. “Some people are questioning how well you can do that when you’re married. If you’re separated, there’s no chance for failure. But if you’re together . . .”

  “We might slip up?” He felt beyond anger, wondering at the minds who spent their time creating trouble for others instead of trying to solve problems.