Dreadnaught

“Only once.” Her eyes took on a distant look. “He wanted me to write an account of the journey back to Alliance space from the Syndic home star system. I told him it was mostly boring.”

“Except when it was terrifying?”

She grinned. “And I told him I wouldn’t say a word about personal matters. You could see the man’s dreams crumble into dust.”

Geary had to muffle his own laughter. “You crushed the dreams of a literary agent?”

“That almost makes me a writer already, doesn’t it?” Desjani asked.

THE rest of the week passed far too slowly in the sense of wondering what might happen next, and far too quickly in terms of the work remaining to be done. A flood of personnel returning to their ships from leave kept the fleet’s shuttles busy, while Geary’s walks through the passageways of Dauntless involved more and more detours as engineers off Titan blocked movement in a constantly changing dance of barriers while they enthusiastically ripped out components and installed newly constructed replacements that were built to have much longer lives.

Dr. Setin, who announced himself to be in charge of the group of experts (“though not their leader in a strictly hierarchal fashion”), managed to escape from Tsunami, where Carabali had stashed the experts, long enough for a shuttle flight to Dauntless. “An amazing opportunity, Admiral,” he told Geary. “Can you imagine the thrill of actually encountering an intelligence different from our own?”

Thinking back to the battle at Midway, Geary just smiled politely. “Yes.”

“But then you have encountered them! What was it like?”

“Thrilling.”

Dr. Setin had come with authorizations allowing him to see what records existed of the fleet’s contacts with the enigma race, so Geary provided him with the information and sent him back to Tsunami.

The day before they were to leave, Geary took a virtual tour through Orion, wanting to personally size up the state of repairs to the battleship and assess the morale of the crew. He had grown depressingly used to having Orion fail him whenever the ship’s contributions were most needed and, despite Desjani’s faith in Commander Shen, couldn’t help thinking that turning the ship around might be beyond the ability of anything short of divine intervention.

Shen looked as aggravated as usual as he led Geary’s virtual presence through Orion, pointing out items occasionally but mostly letting his crew do the talking. A remarkable number of repairs had been accomplished, but that impressed Geary less than how keen the crew members were to show him what they had done. “All battery members fully certified, all hell-lance projectors at one hundred percent,” one chief announced proudly, as Geary paused to look over his battery.

Peering around with an expression as if he had a blister on one foot, Shen focused on the chief. “Lironi got his qualifications completed?”

The chief indicated one of the sailors standing in ranks nearby. “Yes, sir.”

“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