The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian (29 page)

As the Syndics tried to flee, Desjani cursed, altering
Dauntless
’s vector a bit to close on another one of the light cruisers that was the only Syndic warship the Alliance battle cruiser still had a hope of catching. “We’re going to get one shot,” she warned her crew. “Make sure it counts.”

Dauntless
tore past the intercept, hell lances stabbing out at the light cruiser, which rocked under the impacts, straining to get away. Before the light cruiser could recover from the hell-lance hits, two specters slammed into its stern, blowing apart the back half of the Syndic warship.

Inspire
managed to take out a HuK, as did
Dragon
.
Daring
and
Victorious
battered a heavy cruiser, but the Syndic ship didn’t take any damage to its propulsion and kept going.

The Syndics, their groups broken into individual warships, were fleeing all out on dozens of vectors. “We can’t catch any more,” Geary said.

Desjani, her face red with frustration, nodded. “Not if they keep running.”

“They will. Get your division back into formation.” He called Duellos, Tulev, and Badaya with the same orders, knowing the disappointment they would all feel. But you couldn’t beat the physics of time, distance, and available acceleration.

“Shuttles are docking,” Lieutenant Yuon said. “Estimate twenty minutes to complete recovery.”

Geary checked the status of
Guardian
’s shuttles, themselves rising out of the maelstrom of dust raised by the Alliance bombardment.

“Admiral?” General Carabali called. “My Marines and Commander Hopper recommend we flatten the trigger site. Commander Hopper says there is no chance the destruction of the site will set off the Syndic weapon, but destroying the site will seriously complicate attempts to rebuild the trigger.”

“Captain Armus,” Geary ordered. “Destroy the trigger site.”

Another barrage of bombardment projectiles dropped, these rocks bigger, falling from orbit onto the trigger-site building, which sat bizarrely almost undamaged amid the sea of wreckage around it.

As
Guardian
recovered her shuttles, the rocks hit the trigger site, producing a gratifying series of explosions that tossed debris high up toward the battleships and leaving twisted ruins and craters in their wake.

“Admiral, look at this,” Desjani urged.

Geary checked his display. The Syndic light cruiser that was the sole survivor of Group Alpha, which had left the group in time to save itself, had launched several bombardment projectiles.

A bombardment aimed at the larger moon of this planet.

Aimed at the luxury resort where the senior Syndic internal-security leaders in this star system had fled. If those leaders weren’t already in hidden deep shelters, they would have time to flee the resort in the available ships there before the rocks hit, but the bombardment was still a powerful symbolic act.

“I guess they had a mutiny,” Geary commented. “A successful one. I wonder if their ship had that remote power-core-overload device we saw at Midway, and if the Syndic crews are already figuring out how to block it. All units in First Fleet, rejoin formation. General Carabali, please pass on my personal admiration for the skill with which your force-recon team carried out its mission. Emissary Rione, now is the time to let the people of this star system know what fate their Syndic overlords intended for that planet.”

Desjani looked around her bridge, smiling. “Good job, everyone. I think we reminded the Syndics who’s boss. What now, Admiral?”

“We’re heading for Padronis,” Geary said, knowing his next words would be repeated around the fleet. “For the sake of the Syndics, I hope they don’t try to mess with us there.”

—

AS
the fleet neared the jump point for Padronis, they watched the mutinous Syndic light cruiser jump through well ahead of them. “Looks like this jump exit is clear,” Desjani commented.

“We’ll go through carefully anyway,” Geary said. He turned at a sound and saw that Rione had come onto the bridge. “Have we heard any more from the Syndics?”

“No,” Rione replied. “Aside from two fragmentary messages using the avatar of CEO Gawzi that complained of unprovoked aggression, there’s been nothing else. They can’t complain about the warships we destroyed since they insisted those weren’t under Syndic control, and I suspect the Syndics in Simur are too busy with internal matters to pursue further complaints about events we were involved in.”

“Internal matters? Internal revolt, you mean.”

“Of course. There’s no telling who will win this one. We don’t know enough about the Syndic security forces here and what the locals might be able to muster. Did you want me to look into getting supplies from anywhere within this star system? Some of the facilities in the outer reaches of the star system might be willing to deal.”

“No,” Geary said immediately. “We don’t need anything they could provide, and there’s no source here we could trust. Even the people fighting the Syndic security police might see us as still just another enemy. In any case, I don’t want to linger here. That would just give the Syndics more time to prepare surprises at Padronis. What have you heard from the Dancers? Emissary Charban says the Dancers have been singularly uncurious about everything that happened here.”

“Yes. Strangely so,” Rione agreed. “Either they understood it all without our having to explain it, or it was so incomprehensible to them that they aren’t trying to understand it.”

Geary gave his display a glance as it beeped for his attention. “The last shuttle run is complete. I thought we’d never find room for all of those prisoners we liberated. Let’s hope we don’t have to go into battle with all of those extra people clogging our ships.”

That reminded him of something. He called
Tanuki
. “Captain Smythe, how is Commander Hopper? Home safe and sound?”

Smythe grinned. “And happy to be home. We had some trouble prying her away from the Marines. They wanted to keep her. I think the stock of fleet engineers has risen considerably among the Marines. They really did need her. She says that trigger was an impressive mess of misleading circuitry, false mechanisms, and trip wires, all of it designed to fool anyone trying to disable it or override it by standard methods.”

“I’d like to see Commander Hopper’s postaction report when she completes it,” Geary said. “Oh, you can have Lieutenant Jamenson back full-time. Have her destroy all intel files she was sent.”

“Of course,” Captain Smythe said.

“We’ll know if they aren’t destroyed,” Geary added casually. “Special tags embedded in the files.”

“Why would that be a problem?” Smythe asked heartily. “Speaking of Lieutenant Jamenson, she’s being harassed by some fellow named Iger.”

“Harassed? Is that the term she is using?”

“Possibly not. I can’t spare her, Admiral.”

“Understood, Captain, but we have to think of her career and well-being, too. I won’t hijack her. But if she wants to move on, I hope she’ll get the assistance in that effort that she has earned from both of us.”

Smythe sighed dramatically. “You’re right. Keep good people in servitude, and you end up like the Syndics. We’ve almost completed repairs on
Revenge
,
Colossus
, and
Fearless
, by the way. They’ll be fine before we jump. Until something else breaks on them or other ships.”

“We’ll be home soon and have time to work on everything,” Geary said. “Everything except my report on what’s been going on from the time we left Varandal, since I have to turn it in as soon as we arrive. That’s going to be a book before I get everything into it.”

“Too bad we don’t have a faster-than-light message system like the enigmas, isn’t it? Not having to physically send ships with messages could be useful at times.”

Or a pain in the neck if it allowed fleet headquarters to reach across the light-years to try to micromanage us in real time.
“If you come up with one, or figure out how the enigmas do it, let me know.”

After talking to Smythe, and before he could forget, he called Lieutenant Iger. “Just for the sake of observing all of the formalities, let me know when Lieutenant Jamenson has destroyed all the files she was sent and signed off on all of the debriefing and disclosure paperwork.”

Iger nodded quickly. “I don’t anticipate problems with that, Admiral. Shamrock is extremely professional in her work.”

“Shamrock?”

“Uh . . . I mean, Lieutenant Jamenson . . . of course, sir.”

Geary made sure that he didn’t smile. “Then all of your misgivings regarding her have been put to rest?”

“Absolutely, sir! Lieutenant Jamenson has requested to visit
Dauntless
and tour the intelligence spaces here once we return to Varandal. With your permission and approval, Admiral, and that of Captain Desjani.”

Apparently Jamenson wasn’t really feeling harassed. No wonder Smythe was worried about losing her. Geary hoped for Lieutenant Iger’s sake that her interest wasn’t entirely in the intriguing new world of intelligence. “I don’t anticipate any problem with that, Lieutenant.”

Nor was there any problem at the jump exit. Perhaps the Syndics had temporarily run out of mines in this region.

Geary felt relief as the stars around Simur vanished, and the gray of jump space appeared. Not just relief, but a sense that the last major hurdle had been crossed for now.

They would learn whether that was true when they reached Padronis.

THERE
was almost nothing at Padronis.

The fleet came out of jump space prepared for surprises, for threats, and found only two ships in the star system.

Under normal circumstances, even that would be surprising. A white dwarf star, Padronis had no companions in space, no planets or asteroids in orbit. White dwarf stars slowly accumulated helium in their outer shells, causing them to go nova at wide intervals. If anything natural had once orbited Padronis, it had been blown away long before humans reached this part of space.

The formerly Syndic light cruiser that had mutinied was trucking at a good rate toward the jump point for Heradao, already far from where Geary’s warships had arrived. The light cruiser’s crew clearly wanted nothing more to do with fighting the Alliance.

The abandoned Syndic station they had seen when last passing through Padronis was still here, circling in lonely orbit about the star, which would someday in the distant future blast it apart. That’s where the other ship was, a single freighter docked to the emergency rescue station the Syndics had built at Padronis over a century ago, before the hypernet, when ships had to jump from star to star to get anywhere, including stars with nothing at them like Padronis. The station had been decommissioned decades ago, everything shut down and left in place because it would cost more to move it than it was worth.

“What’s the freighter doing?” Geary asked. Nothing else was visible in the star system even though the fleet’s sensors were looking for anything, even the tiniest anomaly. “Make sure nothing unusual the sensors spot gets stuck in the noise filters. I want even junk that looks like junk to be checked carefully.”

“There’s nothing,” Desjani said, shaking her head. “That freighter at the station is three light-hours from us, so it isn’t any possible threat.”

“Captain?” Lieutenant Castries said. “We’ve spotted material being loaded on the freighter.”

“Material?”

A call came in from
Tanuki
. It wasn’t high-priority, but Geary didn’t have much else to do at the moment. “What’s up, Captain Smythe?”

Smythe twitched a brief smile. “That freighter. He’s looting the station.”

“Looting? Are you sure?”

“There’s a very minor chance that the Syndic authorities chartered the ship to pick up equipment that they need elsewhere, but it’s unlikely. Now that the Syndicate Worlds’ government has little authority around here and a lot of other things to worry about, that freighter has come out to this mothballed, off-limits station to haul away everything and anything its owners can sell, even if just for scrap.”

Geary stared at the image of the freighter, his instincts urging him to do something. But what? “Even though that station was mothballed, it still must have held a lot of equipment and supplies that could be critical for any ship passing through Padronis that suffered a serious problem.”

“Right,” Smythe agreed. “Absolutely right. And the looters don’t care. They’re out to make some money even though it could cause tragedy for someone else. That’s how things go when central authority collapses, Admiral. The rich and powerful can still take care of themselves. It’s the people who need help who get hurt the worst. As usual.”

“Thank you, Captain Smythe. I guess there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“No. We could chase this looter off, but another one would show up after we left.” Smythe ended the call with a resigned shrug.

“Admiral,” Desjani said, “look at the Dancers.”

He looked. At Sobek, the Dancers had tried to warn the fleet of danger. At Simur, they had stayed close to
Invincible
, apparently because of the threats from the Syndics there.

But here the Dancers had left the confines of the Alliance formation, swooping around in a way that made Geary think of giddy elation. “They look like they feel safe.”

“I don’t,” Desjani admitted. “I can’t forget what happened the last time we were here.” The dust that had been the heavy cruiser
Lorica
and her crew still circled this star, a fate that had nearly befallen
Dauntless
as well. “Can we head for home?”

“Yeah. Let’s go. Head straight for the jump point for Atalia.”

—

ATALIA
was a living star system though a badly hurt one because of its front-line position during the long war. The fleet came out of jump cautiously again, but Geary had not really expected trouble here. Atalia was too close to Alliance space and had already declared its independence from the Syndicate Worlds. The Syndics would have had a nearly impossible task setting any traps here.

Which made it all the more surprising when combat systems sounded alerts as they arrived from jump.

“Syndics!” Desjani glared at Geary. “Two heavy cruisers near the jump point for Kalixa and four light cruisers and six HuKs near the jump point for Varandal. The Syndics must have moved to take back this star system. Don’t we have grounds for kicking them out again?”

“Maybe.” After everything they had been through, the idea of pushing the Syndics out of Atalia had a great deal of appeal despite its questionable legal basis. “That’s strange. The courier ship is still here, and near those light cruisers and HuKs.”

Inexplicably, the Alliance courier ship still orbited near the jump point for Varandal. That ship represented the Alliance’s halfhearted commitment to keep an eye on Atalia but had never offered any real defense of the star system if the Syndicate Worlds came storming in to force Atalia back into their empire. As it seemed the Syndicate Worlds had. But why hadn’t the courier ship left when that happened? Even if not threatened by the Syndics, it would need to carry the news of the event back to Varandal.

Before Desjani could reply, hull identifications began popping up on their displays. “We know those Syndic ships?” she asked, mystified.

“They’re not Syndic ships?” Geary asked as the colors on the display changed. “They’re—They’re from Midway? They hadn’t sent—
Manticore
?
Kraken
? Those heavy cruisers were still at Midway when we left!”

Desjani’s expression had hardened further. “They could only have gotten here before us by using the Syndic hypernet to go somewhere like Indras. The Syndics did do something to temporarily block use of their hypernet, and the ones at Midway
were
in on that trick.”

“Hold on.” Geary took a moment to think, aware that the unexpectedness of this had left him off-balance. “If they had been part of a Syndic trick, why let us know by being here when we came through? They couldn’t have expected this entire fleet or even the majority of it to be destroyed even if everything we ran into had been one hundred percent effective. Let’s head for the jump point for Varandal while we wait to hear their explanation for being here.”

When that explanation eventually came, they saw Kommodor Marphissa gazing at them. “If she is faking happiness at seeing us, she is doing a good job,” Rione commented.

“Admiral Geary,” Marphissa said, “we are pleased to see you again. Two days after your departure from Midway, we regained access to all gates on the Syndicate hypernet. The Syndicate must have learned how to temporarily shut down most or all of their hypernet. We are bending every effort to learn how they do this but so far have no information.

“We came here at the suggestion of Captain Bradamont, who told us of the captured Reserve Flotilla survivors at Varandal. Those survivors could provide the crews we need for our warships, so President Iceni approved a recovery mission. Six freighters have gone on to Varandal, accompanied by Captain Bradamont, who assured us that Admiral Timbale would do as you wished in your absence.

“We are nonetheless concerned for her and our ships and are glad that you will soon reach Varandal as well. If there is anything the warships of the Recovery Flotilla of the independent Midway Star System can do to assist you, please let us know. Marphissa, for the people, out.”

For a moment, no one spoke, then Rione shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting that. What do you suppose happened when Captain Bradamont and those six freighters got to Varandal?”

“Hopefully, they’ve been picking up those Syndic prisoners,” Geary said. “I hope my orders provided sufficient cover for Captain Bradamont.”

“That Kommodor actually seemed sincere when she expressed concern for Captain Bradamont,” Rione commented.

“Syndics are good liars,” Desjani said. “And she was probably actually concerned about her freighters. I know, I know,” she added, when Geary turned a look on her. “These aren’t Syndics anymore. Well, they’re welcome to those deadweight prisoners at Varandal, right?”

“Right,” Geary agreed. “And if these ships from Midway are only here waiting for the freighters to return, we don’t have to deal with them. They’re no threat to Atalia.”

“They are actually a defense for Atalia,” Rione pointed out.

Geary shook his head. “Another thing I never expected to see.” He tapped his comm control. “Kommodor Marphissa, you should be aware that the Syndicate Worlds launched deniable attacks on us at Sobek and Simur. We would appreciate any more information you have about what happened with the Syndic hypernet. We are proceeding to the Varandal jump point. Once at Varandal, if Captain Bradamont and your ships are still present, we will ensure that they depart safely. It is, uh, good to see you again as well. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”

“Did you have to add that good to see you stuff?” Desjani grumbled.

The authorities at Atalia were more than welcoming, falling over themselves to offer the great Black Jack anything he might need (if they had it), expressing cautious thanks for the protection offered by the flotilla from Midway (and implying how nice it would be if the Alliance made a similar commitment of forces) while also complaining that the Midway ships had, since arriving, blocked anyone from jumping for Kalixa and Indras beyond, and by the way just what were those six mysterious ships that resembled no human construction and where had that superbattleship, also of unfamiliar design, come from? Geary let Rione offer ambiguous thanks-but-no-thanks responses that provided no real information on the fleet or where it had been.

The small crew of the courier ship were also hopping with curiosity. They confirmed that six freighters had arrived with the Midway forces and jumped for Varandal several days ago. Knowing how boring and thankless the courier ship’s sentry assignment at Atalia was, Geary offered the crew a sanitized version of the report he had prepared for fleet headquarters and the Alliance government.

As they approached the jump point for Varandal, Rione asked to speak with him privately. Suspecting what she was going to say, Geary only reluctantly granted her request.

“I hope you don’t think the danger is over,” she began, standing in his stateroom after declining his offer of a seat.

Unhappy to have guessed right, Geary sat down himself and leaned back, looking at the overhead. He had been doing more of that since talking with Charban about the patterns that humans saw in things, wondering what a Dancer would see in those same shapes. Or what an enigma would see, or a Kick. But only the Dancers might someday provide an answer. “I know we’re going to face some challenges in Alliance space . . .”

“The problems we left remain and have likely gotten worse,” Rione cautioned. “Too many people in the Alliance think that you’re a gift from the living stars who will save the Alliance, and too many others think you’re the greatest threat the Alliance has ever faced.”

“And,” Geary said in a tired voice, “there are plenty of people in between those extremes who are playing their own games in the full belief that they are in the right. What can I do?”

“Wait, watch, and react.” She made a helpless gesture. “There are too many players, all working at their own games. Speaking of different players, I am increasingly worried about what the ships from the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation will do when we get to Varandal.”

First Dr. Nasr and now Rione. For both to mention it meant the problem was getting serious. “I have told the crews of those ships that I will do everything I can—”

“I don’t think that’s good enough, Admiral,” Rione insisted. “Captain Hiyen is extremely worried. As he put it, there’s nothing big happening, but there are constant, minor tremblings in the crews that put him in mind of how earthquakes are forecast. You may not have time to act. Last time they returned to Varandal, they waited for orders and were rewarded by being ordered to go out again with you instead of being allowed to go home, as they had every right to expect. I don’t know what may happen this time. Just be prepared for an earthquake from that direction.”

Geary nodded wearily. “As opposed to being prepared for earthquakes from every other direction.”

“Yes. I don’t like playing defense, but it’s all we have in this case. Just parrying problems as they come at us is the best we can hope for. Unless some new factor changes things.”

“New factor?” Geary looked at her. “We are bringing the Dancers back.”

“There’s no predicting the impact of
that
,” Rione said. “Especially since I can’t predict what the Dancers will do. They have chosen to accompany us. I still don’t know why. Maybe once we reach Alliance territory, the Dancers will tell us.”

He looked back at the tangle of wires, conduits, and cables overhead. “Someone didn’t want me, didn’t want this fleet, to come back.”

“But you are coming back. With a fleet that is still powerful. Why didn’t that statement produce any sign of satisfaction in you? Is there something you’re not telling
me
, Black Jack?”

“That would be a change.”

“It would. And you’re avoiding answering the question.”

“Do you know that the Alliance government is building a new fleet?”

She stared at him, showing open surprise for possibly the first time since he had met her. “Where did you hear that?”

Geary smiled, a mere bending of his mouth without feeling behind it. “I have my sources.”

“How large a fleet?” If Rione had known of this, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it.