The Lost Fleet Beyond the Frontier Invincible

“I know what Boyens will do,” Geary said, pointing to the Syndic flotilla near the hypernet gate. “When we had him aboard Dauntless as a prisoner, he struck me as being deliberate and calculating. He tried to figure out where each possible move would lead before he acted, and even then preferred to wait to see what others did before he committed himself to a course of action. He’s almost certainly here with orders to subdue the rebels in this star system. Getting involved with fighting the enigmas might damage or destroy his own ships, making it harder or impossible to defeat the rebels. So he’ll stand off from any fighting, stay near the hypernet gate, and wait for us to beat the enigmas. Once that is done, he’ll move in on the rebels, who might have lost ships to the enigmas during the fight, and regain control of Midway. To Boyens, that will be a win-win solution.”

“What about the rebels, Admiral?” Lieutenant Iger asked. “Wouldn’t it be to their advantage to also avoid getting involved in the fight so they could conserve their forces for the eventual battle with Boyens’s flotilla?”

Desjani snorted. “Let’s you and him fight. Sounds like Syndics, all right. They’ll just wait to see how much damage we and the enigmas do to each other.”

“If we need them, the rebels will have to act with us,” Geary said, drawing a skeptical look from Desjani. “If we lose, then they face not just Boyens, who wants to bring them back into the Syndic fold—”

“Which doubtless means busy firing squads for weeks and weeks,” Desjani broke in.

“—but they also face the enigmas, who, as far as they know, want to wipe them out.”

“That’s a point,” she conceded.

“They might also want our gratitude,” Lieutenant Iger pointed out. “A reason for us to back them against the Syndicate Worlds’ flotilla.”

Geary sat back, thinking out options, while everyone waited. He could feel them trying not to watch him as the seconds ticked past. “We arrived twenty minutes ago. In ten more minutes, the enigma force will know we’ve arrived. They’re here, they’re waiting here, to destroy us. I fully expect that as soon as they see us, those enigmas will accelerate straight for us and bring us to battle.”

Desjani nodded. “Agreed. So where do we go?”

“We go to meet them, Captain. Meet them and kick them back into their territory so hard they won’t be able to stop skidding until they reach Pandora.”

He knew those words would be repeated around the fleet, or at least the portion of it that had arrived at Midway, and, from the shouts already echoing through Dauntless, that they would be greeted with approval. “All units, this is Admiral Geary. Immediate execute, accelerate to point one five light speed.”

Geary called General Charban. “General, that message you put together offering the enigmas an agreement in which we leave them alone, and they leave us alone. Broadcast it to that enigma force here. I don’t expect them to take the offer, but I want to try.”

Charban nodded in sad agreement. “I think they will need at least one more unmistakable lesson that force cannot achieve their goals with us. The message will be sent immediately, Admiral, and I will let you know the instant that I receive a reply, if any reply comes.”

Geary reactivated the window where Lieutenant Iger waited. “Lieutenant, find out everything you can about the situation in this star system. Confirm who really is in charge, what they’ve been doing, and anything else that might influence my decisions on what I should do.”

Iger saluted, his image vanishing.

As the main propulsion units on the battle cruisers, light cruisers, and destroyers of the pursuit force kicked in, Geary saw another large virtual window pop up next to him. The only thing visible inside the window was text, which to his quick glance looked a lot like an official document of some kind. A voice began reciting words as those same words were highlighted in the document. “Fleet regulations mandate that no ship is allowed to go under seventy percent fuel-cell level in the course of operations so as to ensure sufficient power reserves to cope with any outcome or contingency. Any unit reaching the seventy percent level must immediately—”

Geary finally found his fleet commander override and punched it.

The voice stopped. Then it started again.

He hit override once more.

The voice made a third effort and Geary held down the override this time. Once certain that the subroutine installed in the fleet’s systems by headquarters had been choked into a coma by this final effort, he checked the fleet status readouts, seeing that after the dash through Pele his destroyers were either at or rapidly approaching the seventy-percent mark.

“Problem?” Desjani asked, her voice tense at the possibility that Geary’s comms might be acting up again.