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Authors: Jack Campbell

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BOOK: The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught
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“About time.” Shen addressed the sailor directly. “You could have done it six months ago and be commanding this battery yourself by now. Next time, don’t let down
Orion
or yourself.”
“They’re looking good,” Geary told Shen before he departed. “The crew and the ship.”
Shen, frowning as if the statement simply pointed out the obvious, saluted stiffly before Geary broke the connection. Geary stood there in his stateroom for a moment, rubbing his neck and wondering what
Orion
would do the next time he called upon that ship.
The next day, he and Desjani sat on the bridge of
Dauntless
as Geary prepared to give the orders for the fleet to leave orbit about Varandal and head for the jump point for Atalia inside Syndicate Worlds’ space. Or rather, inside what had been Syndic space before Syndicate authority began collapsing. Atalia’s current status was ambiguous, which was better than hostile.
As he had been half-fearing, and half-expecting in a resigned way, an urgent transmission came in. “Admiral Timbale?” Geary asked. Timbale had remained supportive and dependable, but at present he had a rigid set to his expression. “I’m hoping you’re just calling to wish us on our way.” That was something Timbale had already done some hours ago, but Geary could always hope.
Timbale’s response was delayed almost half a minute by the current distance to Ambaru station. “Admiral Geary, have you received any orders concerning any of your auxiliaries?”
“My auxiliaries?” Had Smythe’s plan already been compromised? The fleet was literally leaving within the hour. “No.”
“I am in receipt of high-priority orders instructing that I take immediate control of
Titan
,
Tanuki
,
Kupua
, and
Domovoi
. They’re to be detached from your fleet pending other assignments.”
SEVEN
 
“WHAT?”
He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Not just half his auxiliary force, but the four big auxiliaries. In terms of capability, taking those four would amount to losing two-thirds of his auxiliary support. “Why?” Could someone have already discovered Captain Smythe’s scheme? But the first requisitions based on those had only been forwarded two days ago, far too short a time for them to have reached headquarters, let alone be analyzed. These orders must have originated roughly a week ago.
“No reason given.” Timbale kept his voice level, but he was clearly upset.
“The other fleets are intended to operate inside Alliance territory. They’d have no conceivable requirement for auxiliary support.”
“I know. I thought at first it might be a cost-cutting measure, a very ill-advised cost-cutting measure, but the orders clearly state the auxiliaries will be sent on new assignments, not decommissioned.”
“I’ll—” What? What could he do? The orders were to Timbale, not Geary. “Those ships aren’t even under your command, Admiral. Why would those orders have been sent to you and not me?”
Unless headquarters has figured out that I actually am taking into account all potential factors when I decide how to carry out my orders, and so is trying to end-run me this way because they know I’d find reasons to keep those auxiliaries with me.
Timbale paused, thinking, then nodded. “You’re right. Admiral Geary, it is my professional assessment that these orders were sent in error and cannot be accurate. The ships in question are assigned to you, under your command, so these orders should have gone to you. At the very least, notifying you as part of their current chain of command would be required. Surely, headquarters would not intentionally have failed to inform you on this matter since that would be a violation of operational procedures.” Admiral Timbale was speaking slowly and clearly, ensuring that the record of their conversation would lay out justification for his actions. “Since I also cannot think of any possible reason for detaching these ships from your command at this time, it follows that this message must have been sent in error, perhaps a training or contingency message that was accidentally released for transmission.”
“Surely,” Geary agreed, knowing that both he and Timbale were aware that headquarters had very likely excluded him on purpose. But they had to speak as if innocent of any intent to disregard a valid order. “Higher-priority tasking should have been specifically identified in the orders.”
“Therefore, I cannot execute these orders,” Timbale continued. “Administratively, I’m not sure I have the authority to remove ships from your control, and, operationally, the orders don’t make sense. I will reply to headquarters, expressing my assessment that the orders are erroneous, and requesting clarification. Given the uncertain nature of their validity, I strongly advise that you do not halt ongoing tasking in order to carry out orders not even transmitted to you. I will await confirmation of the validity of the orders before carrying them out.”
Even if Timbale sent that query out immediately, and Geary suspected that Timbale would take a while to actually do that, by the time a courier ship had reached headquarters and a reply had come back, weeks would have passed, and Geary’s fleet would already be well outside Alliance space. But headquarters would still have Timbale within their reach. “Admiral Timbale, I appreciate your willingness to do what seems proper, but I am concerned about possible misinterpretations of your intent to properly carry out your orders.”
“Thank you, Admiral Geary, but I have no alternative. My duty to the Alliance demands that I ensure orders are valid before I carry them out.” Timbale actually seemed very tranquil as he said that. “You know, Admiral, we talked once about the cat in the box, about not knowing whether you’d do the right thing, no matter what, when the time came. I’m happy to inform you that the cat is alive.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. Rest assured that I will take my own steps regarding this matter when I can.”
“Are they trying to outright sabotage you?” Desjani asked in disbelief as Timbale’s image vanished.
“I can’t believe anyone would do that,” Geary said slowly. “There are other explanations.”
“I’d love to hear them.”
“Maybe someone got hints of what Smythe is up to—”
“Not enough time has gone by, Admiral. Try again.”
She would keep him honest no matter how much he wanted to avoid considering some possibilities. “Maybe someone finally ran the numbers,” Geary said, “and realized how much it’s going to cost to keep those four big auxiliaries in commission and figured getting rid of them would save a lot of money. The orders didn’t say that was the intent, but that might have been a deliberate move to avoid letting us know that we’d lose the support of those ships not just temporarily, but permanently.”
“Humph,” Desjani snorted skeptically. “It might save money in one or two places but add a lot of expenses elsewhere. Who would they have to pay to do the jobs that the auxiliaries are doing? Private contractors? Didn’t we hear that the Syndics use that kind of system?”
“Yeah. And their mobile forces hated it.” Geary checked his display. “All ships are reporting readiness for departure. What do you say we get the hell out of here now instead of waiting another half hour?”
“I say that’s an excellent idea, Admiral.”
He sent the orders, watching as nearly three hundred warships, auxiliaries, and assault transports lit off their main drives and began moving into formation for the transit to Atalia. Even though the war with the Syndics had ended, and even though Atalia had declared its independence from the rapidly imploding empire of the Syndicate Worlds, Geary had decided to make jumps in formations suitable for immediate combat just in case unexpected threats materialized.
The growing experience and skill of his crews had led him to choose a formation that involved six subformations. Five of those were built around cores of battleships or battle cruisers, with heavy cruisers, light cruisers, and destroyers arrayed around them. The sixth was made up of the eight auxiliaries, divided into two divisions, and a single division of four assault transports. He had a lot more Marines along than before since no one knew what he might need when dealing with the aliens, but the Marine force commanded by General Carabali only required two transports to carry those Marines not dispersed among the major warships. As a result,
Tsunami
,
Typhoon
,
Mistral
, and
Haboob
were only half–loaded out with Marines and their equipment, as well as the small contingent of civilian experts on nonhuman intelligent species. The extra capacity to carry people in those four transports would be useful when they picked up the POWs at Dunai, and in case they found any humans alive and captive inside alien space.
The subformations were arranged with the largest combatant subformation in the lead, the auxiliaries and transports behind that, and the other four combatant subformations spaced evenly around the support ships, as if the warships formed a huge cup, bottom facing forward, holding the auxiliaries and transports inside. Front and center in the largest subformation was
Dauntless
, the flagship, literally the moving point around which the rest of the fleet aligned itself.
He felt a sensation of being watched and looked over to see Desjani gazing at him and smiling. “Now what did I do?”
“It’s just so obvious how proud you are of them,” she replied. “When I watched Admiral Bloch, and some other admirals, at times like that I always got the feeling they felt that having lots of ships respond to their orders showed how powerful and special they were. From you, as you watch those ships, I get the feeling that you feel privileged to command them.”
“I am privileged,” he muttered. “Do you know what tomorrow is, Tanya? It will be the one hundred and first anniversary of the day I assumed command of the heavy cruiser
Merlon
. I found the responsibility of being
Merlon
’s commanding officer to be very humbling. Now, all of these ships are under my command.”
“They all will be if we can get out of this star system before any more messages come from headquarters.”
At point one light speed, it took almost three days to reach the jump point for Atalia, but the only surprise occurred on the second day, when two civilian ships jumped in from another Alliance star system and began broadcasting messages, which finally reached the fleet’s ships hours later.
“Do not export human aggression!”
“Exploration not conquest!”
“Keep our taxes and our soldiers at home!”
“I don’t disagree with the sentiments,” Geary commented. “Except for the fact that they seem to think we’re the ones picking a fight with the aliens.”
Desjani, uncharacteristically, didn’t reply for a moment, but finally shrugged. “It was a long war. You know how we all felt. Most of us kept fighting because we didn’t see any good alternatives. I lost a lot of friends, so I understand why some people wanted other decent choices. But wanting it didn’t make it so. It still doesn’t.”
He nodded slowly to her. “True. Right now I’d love some good alternatives to going across half of human space, then jumping into alien territory armed to the teeth. But from what we know, none of those alternatives would be better than what we’re doing.”
She smiled wryly. “I wonder what they’d do if they actually encountered the aliens they’re worried about us attacking.”
“Our job is to make sure they don’t, or if they do, that the aliens are willing to talk and coexist.”
This time Desjani laughed briefly. “Which means if we succeed at what we want to do, then those protestors will probably never realize what we did.”
“Somebody asked me why I still believed in ‘fair,’ ” Geary commented. “When I think of things like you just pointed out, I have to admit that’s a good question. As a matter of fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever actually seen ‘fair.’ ”
“Just because you’ve never seen something doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
He was still contemplating that statement when the communications watch made a report. “They’re broadcasting their junk on every channel, Captain, official and unofficial. Apparently that’s become standard protest tactics.”
Desjani shook her head. “Idiots. They’re blocking emergency coordination frequencies. The people in this star system won’t be sympathetic to their messages anyway, but that move will ensure any possible agreement is swamped by irritation. I hope Varandal’s defense forces can catch those fools.”
One of the watch-standers grinned. “Those ships couldn’t outrun specters, Captain.”
Instead of smiling in return, Desjani gave him a flat look. “We don’t fire on peaceful protestors, Lieutenant. If those people transmitted on authorized frequencies only, then they’d be allowed to as long as they wanted. We’re the Alliance, not the Syndics.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the lieutenant said, reddening slightly in embarrassment. “I wasn’t serious.”
“Understood. But people controlling the amount of firepower that we do have to be careful of the jokes we tell.”
Geary nodded to Desjani, then checked his own comms. “Most of my channels are still clear.”
“Admiral, that’s because our transmitters are powerful enough to punch through the interference from distant ships,” the comm watch explained.
BOOK: The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught
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