The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Steadfast (28 page)

“Yes. I’m looking for that HuK that was performing picket duty at Yokai and jumped here ahead of us. Where is he?”

“He must be one of the HuKs in that group near the primary world. He had plenty of time to join them before we arrived.”

A reasonable assumption,
Geary thought.
But, still, an assumption.
He parked a mental worry chit on the question of where that HuK was as more information about Batara came in.

“Captain,” the operations watch-stander said, “we’re spotting significant crowd activity in the cities that are visible to us. The population is in the streets, not sheltering against bombardment.”

“Crowd activity?” Geary asked. “How full are the streets?”

“Packed, Admiral.”

“Lieutenant Barber,” Duellos ordered, “we need to know what’s going on here.”

“We’re analyzing all the communications and other traffic we can pick up,” Barber said. “There’s a lot for a star system with a population this size. The official newscasts say nothing is happening.”

“But we all know what official news amounts to, don’t we, Lieutenant?” Duellos turned back to Geary. “What are you going to tell them?”

“Batara?” Geary said. “Nothing, yet. We’ll wait here until the refugee ships show up, then all proceed in-system toward that inhabited world. I’ll wait to send any messages to anyone until we have a better idea of what’s happening.”

A flurry of updates on the displays marked the arrival of the refugee ships and their escorts, scores of ships suddenly there in space near the battle cruisers. A thought struck Geary, and he tapped another control. “Colonel Kim, give the refugee leaders Naxos and Araya listening access to the comms on that freighter and see what they think the situation is based on what they hear and who is saying it.” It was annoying not having Lieutenant Iger and his intel team available to handle all this, but he could improvise.

“Let’s get going,” Geary said. “Immediate execute, all units turn starboard one eight degrees, down zero seven degrees, maintain point zero five light speed.”

Since the light cruisers and HuKs were near the primary inhabited world, and that world was swinging in orbit on the far side of the star relative to Geary’s ships, it would be a bit over four hours before the light from here reached them and they learned that the Alliance warships had arrived. It gave him some time to figure out what the situation was in Batara.

It only took about half an hour before Colonel Kim called back. “The refugee leader Araya is certain from the transmissions we’re picking up that what she calls the
damned cowardly greedy revolution-betraying traitors-to-the-people
who have been running Batara have sold out to Tiyannak.”

“Sold out? They’ve allied with Tiyannak?”

Colonel Kim shrugged. “Even Araya isn’t sure what their status is. Ally. Vassal. Slave. She and Naxos both say if they didn’t know exactly whom to pay attention to in all the transmissions out there, they wouldn’t know what was going on. There are a lot of broadcasts where even they can’t figure out who’s sending them and what side they’re on.”

“You’re certain of that?” Geary demanded. “Araya and Naxos thought the transmissions we’re picking up are unusual for Batara?”

“Pretty certain, yes, Admiral. While she was listening to them, Araya kept saying stuff like
what the hell?
and
what is this?
She kept asking Naxos who different people and different organizations were, and he spent a lot of time shaking his head.”

“Thank you, Colonel.” Geary turned to Duellos as Kim’s image vanished. “How is Lieutenant Barber doing on his analysis of the situation?”

Duellos grimaced. “I checked with him while you were talking to Colonel Kim. Barber is doing his best, but he says it’s very complex. He’s a good, smart officer, Admiral. He’ll figure it out.”

“If he doesn’t, it won’t be because he isn’t smart.” Geary pointed to where the primary inhabited world showed on his display. “The refugee leaders say there are a lot of transmissions out there that they have trouble identifying, transmissions that confuse the situation and make it very hard to understand exactly what the status of Batara is.”

“Confuse?” Duellos repeated, his jaw tightening. “The HuK that told them we were coming.”

“And gave them plenty of time to fill space before we got here with misleading, confusing, and false transmissions in order to keep us uncertain about who is in charge at Batara and what they are doing.”

Duellos gazed narrowly at his own display. “To what purpose? Those tricks will delay our understanding of the situation, but they won’t stop us. They must mean to keep us guessing for a while. What advantage will that gain them?”

“Good question.” Geary chewed his lip as he studied the situation. “They knew we had the refugee ships with us. Even a Syndic HuK has good enough sensors to ID those as old Syndic-make merchant ships at seven light-hours distance. Having the refugee ships with us meant we would head for that planet, but the only significant threat to us there are those light cruisers and HuKs, and we should be able to handle them easily.”

“We’ve been keeping a close eye on them,” Duellos said.

“I know you’ve—” Geary stopped, frowning. “We’re watching them.”

“Yes.”

“
Focused
on them.”

Duellos shook his head quickly. “We are watching for any other threats, Admiral. There’s nothing else out there.”

“There’s nothing else we
see
,” Geary replied. “If they want to delay our understanding of the situation, that means they have something that requires time to develop.” He paused, eyeing his display, then tapped a command for it to project future movements at a greatly accelerated rate. Ships spun in orbit or raced along vectors, planets rocketed around the star—

Geary almost flinched as he saw something big coming toward the track his ships would be following, then recognized the object swinging toward that track as the largest of the gas giant worlds in Batara.

He froze his display, then tapped another command. “Ten light-minutes.”

Duellos raised an eyebrow, leaning over to check what Geary was doing. “That gas giant? Yes,” he confirmed, “its closest point of approach to our ships as they proceed, and it orbits, will be ten light-minutes distant.” Duellos paused to think, tapping one finger against his lips as he considered this information. “Not awfully close in space terms, but not a long distance, either.”

Geary nodded almost absentmindedly, his thoughts moving ahead as he gazed at the representation of the gas giant. It was fairly gorgeous as planets went, bands of colors rioting across the heavy clouds cloaking it and a single, bright ring marking the ancient fates of one or more moons which must have shattered into fragments long ago. In terms of size, as planets went, it was indeed a giant.

Ten light-minutes. Roughly one hundred eighty million kilometers. A very long distance in planetary terms.

But when he had to worry about a large number of merchant ships that could not run well or fight at all, ten light-minutes might be far too small a distance.

“We’re in space. We’re assuming we can see any threats. But what if,” he asked Duellos, “something was hiding behind that gas giant, maneuvering to stay concealed until it could pop out when it was close enough that the freighters couldn’t get away?”

Duellos nodded, his eyes also on the gas giant. “An ambush from that distance wouldn’t work against warships, but against freighters is a much different matter. We’d also have trouble spotting small, stealthy satellites from this far away under normal circumstances, but that ring offers perfect secondary concealment. They could have a score of small satellites in orbit inside the ring, watching us and relaying their observations to each other by tight beams around the curve of the planet.” He looked at Geary. “That’s just a guess, though. We don’t have any proof.”

“We can get proof.” He pondered his display a moment longer, then called the light cruiser
Spur
.

Lieutenant Commander Pajari, captain of
Spur
and commander of the light cruiser squadron, answered less than a minute later. “Yes, Admiral.”

“Which one of the light cruisers has the most reliable propulsion and maneuvering?” Geary asked. He should have been able to get that data from the fleet’s readiness reports, but since headquarters had ordered those to display exaggerated readiness, he could no longer trust the information in them.

Pajari didn’t hesitate. “
Fleche
, sir. Her propulsion systems failed not long after we returned to Varandal last time, so she was moved up in priority for replacement of the equipment. Her other systems are as old as she is, for the most part, but propulsion and maneuvering are new and solid.”

“
Fleche
?” Tanya had served on an earlier
Fleche
, which had been destroyed. There might have been a half dozen other
Fleche
s built and lost in the intervening years. This
Fleche
with the “old” equipment had been launched barely two years ago, her systems designed to last for the ship’s life expectancy in combat, which had been less than a year. “Very well,” Geary said. “You are to detach
Fleche
for a reconnaissance mission.” Geary indicated the gas giant on his display. “We need to find out, as soon as we can, whether anything is hiding behind that planet. I want
Fleche
to go out there, pop over the top, swing wide to take a good look, and rejoin the formation.”

“Yes, sir.
Fleche
is to go out, reconnoiter the far side of the gas giant by passing over its north pole, then rejoin the formation,” Pajari repeated.

“
Fleche
is not to engage anything it spots,” Geary emphasized. “If there is something there, it’s probably a lot more than a light cruiser can handle. She is to take a look and get back here, utilizing whatever acceleration is necessary to ensure her safe return to formation.”

“Yes, sir. I will ensure that
Fleche
’s commanding officer receives those orders word for word.”

Only a couple of minutes later, Geary watched
Fleche
peel away from the formation and tear off toward an intercept with the gas giant as it lumbered along its own orbit. He could almost feel the eagerness with which the light cruiser embarked on the mission, a welcome diversion from plodding along with the refugee ships.

“If there is something there,” Duellos said, “
Fleche
won’t buy us much warning. It looks like she’ll get her look at the back side of that planet when it’s about fifteen light-minutes from our track.”

“That’s better than ten light-minutes.”

“True.” Duellos had turned somber as he watched the light cruiser arc away from the other Alliance warships. “This is one of those times when you should be grateful that I’m not Tanya.”

“I’m often grateful that you’re not Tanya and that she’s not you,” Geary said. “No offense. Why in particular this time?”

“She’s very superstitious about light cruisers bearing the name
Fleche
.” Duellos shook his head, avoiding looking at Geary. “Has she ever told you what she endured in the battle where her
Fleche
was destroyed?”

“No. She did finally say that I could read her citation for the Alliance Fleet Cross, but she still absolutely refuses to talk about it.” Except once, and Tanya had mostly focused on what had happened afterwards.

Duellos relapsed into silence, but Geary guessed that he was also worried about using a ship named
Fleche
for this mission. Tanya wasn’t the only superstitious sailor in the fleet. Something about being a sailor, about being out on the vastness of planetary seas or the infinite immensity of space, encouraged the sense of being surrounded by unseen forces that could help or hinder, save or destroy, depending on whether they were appeased or provoked. It was something older and vaster than any religion, and he had felt it often enough himself.

However, there wasn’t a lot he could do in the way of appeasing or provoking the unseen while waiting for
Fleche
to reach the gas giant. Even with the light cruiser ramping her velocity up a little past point two light speed, it would still be close to three hours before the warship intercepted the gas giant in its orbit.

But he could move his ships around a bit, positioning the battle cruisers so that they were ahead of and to one side of the gaggle of refugee ships, best positioned if something dangerous did lurk behind that gas giant. And he could plan for when they reached the inhabited world, talking with both Colonel Voston and Colonel Kim about the security that would be needed, and with the three FAC pilots about how they would provide protection for the shuttles bringing down the refugees to the surface.

Night Witch, Catnap, and Nightstalker were all attentive as he talked to them, eager to reach the planet and fulfill their mission. Geary had looked up the statistics on FACs, learning that in an offensive combat situation their odds of survival were extremely small, but none of the pilots showed any signs of being fazed by that. They were, after all, pilots, just as the crews of Geary’s ships were sailors.

When all of those preparations were done, and
Fleche
was still an hour from reaching the gas giant, Geary talked to the refugee leaders Araya and Naxos again. “What are you planning to do once we drop off you and the others?” he asked.

Araya gave him her scornful look. “Are you still pretending to care?”

“Actually, I do care,” Geary replied. “You’ll have a pretty large mass of people with you, most or all of whom think like you do. There are already a lot of people in the streets on that planet.”

Naxos smiled, his eyes on the deck. “The people on Batara aren’t happy. I, for one, will not be exiled again. I will walk into the Hall of the People and kick out the new CEOs who rule there.”

“You’ll have help,” Araya said. “Lots of it. If we can get the ground forces and the security forces, some of them anyway, to back us, we can do it.” Her face lit with dangerous enthusiasm. “And then those scum will find themselves in the labor camps!”