The Lost Fleet Beyond the Frontier Invincible

“Your primary assignment will be defense of the captured superbattleship. Do you feel that Orion can provide that service?”

“I have no doubt of it, Admiral.”

“Then I will continue to list Orion as combat capable. Please let your crew know that they have the most important assignment in the fleet. We must get that superbattleship home in one piece. I am entrusting it to Orion because I know Orion can do the job.”

Was that a ghost of a smile breaking through the rigid strata of Shen’s usual sourness? “I will ensure that my crew is aware of what you have said, Admiral.”

As he ended that call, Geary noticed Desjani gazing somberly straight ahead. “What’s the matter?”

She looked over at him. “Shen and I are old friends. Shipmates. I don’t want to see him die, too. I’ve lost too many shipmates over the years.”

“Why do you think—?”

“I know him, Admiral, and you’re beginning to know him. You know he meant what he said. Shen will defend that captured superbattleship to the last even though Orion is coming apart at the seams. And I know why you wanted him and Orion to be on that job despite the material condition of Orion.”

He watched her, a tight feeling inside him. “Why?”

She leaned close, inside his privacy field so no one else on the bridge could hear what she said, her eyes on his. “Because,” Desjani said in a low voice, “you’re worried that Captain Jane Geary will take Dreadnaught off on another glorious charge, leaving the superbattleship undefended, and you know that this time Shen won’t follow her, and if he doesn’t follow Dreadnaught with Orion, then Dependable and Conqueror will also stay with that superbattleship. Commander Shen and Orion are your insurance against Jane Geary’s seeking glory again.”

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that he would not risk Shen and Orion that way, but in his heart he knew that he could not deny Desjani’s words.

TWELVE

“ALL units, come port zero two zero degrees, down four degrees, and accelerate to point one light speed at time four zero.” The First Fleet of the Alliance, battered but once again ready to face whatever awaited it, headed for the jump point designated by the spider-wolves. Ahead of the human fleet, the six spider-wolf ships that would accompany it easily maintained a distance exactly one light-minute ahead.

They would be transiting through spider-wolf space, not fighting their way through, so Geary had arranged the fleet in a simple, vast elliptical formation, relatively compact, nonthreatening, and one of the more graceful formations he could have chosen from. The assemblage of human ships still looked crude judged against the spider-wolf formation, as if a barely organized band of barbarians had stumbled into the midst of a formal dance, but it didn’t look as bad in comparison as some of the other choices would have. In the center of the ellipse of human warships, protected alongside the assault transports and the auxiliaries, four battleships mated to the captured superbattleship strained to pull it along with the fleet.

As they moved across the outer span of the star system, the main spider-wolf formation, still watching the jump point leading to the bear-cow star Pandora, slid past to their right. The beautiful whorls and patterns of the spider-wolf formation changed as the view from the human ships altered, the curves seeming to swirl and melt in upon themselves.

“Four and a half light-hours to the jump point. Forty-five hours’ travel time if you want to keep to point one light speed,” Desjani announced.

“It wouldn’t be worth the cost in fuel cells to speed up, then slow down again for the jump,” Geary said. “Not for the small amount of time we’d gain. And getting the captured superbattleship up to speed or slowing it down again is not fast or easy to do.”

“Is the hypernet gate at the next star?”

“Our emissaries and our experts aren’t sure,” Geary replied. He watched his display, trying to relax the tension inside him as he waited for problems to pop up. But no propulsion units failed, no maneuvering difficulties appeared, and no pieces came off any of the ships. It doesn’t take all that much to make me happy these days. A century ago, when I was in a peacetime fleet with ships made to last at least several decades, I never could have imagined being thrilled to see none of my ships break when we started a simple movement. “If the hypernet gate isn’t at the next star, we’ll be able to use the additional time in transit and jump space for more repair work.”

“You’ve gotten very good at rationalizing things,” Desjani said.