The Lost Fleet: Courageous

Captain Duellos nodded. “Picket ships. One corvette will probably jump from each when they reach it to report our presence here, while the others wait to report which jump point we actually used.”

It wasn’t at all hard to read the dissatisfaction around the table at that, but there simply wasn’t any way for the fleet to engage any of those Syndic warships. Even though the corvettes were slower than any ship in the Alliance fleet except the four auxiliaries, they just had too great a lead. “We’re going to do a significant amount of damage to Syndic facilities in this star system,” Geary pointed out. “And once again the Syndics are going to provide the raw materials our auxiliaries need to keep us going.”

He could easily sense the lack of enthusiasm. Even his closest allies weren’t thrilled, but what was there to be thrilled about? Baldur was just a waypoint in a long journey home. After Baldur they’d have to fight their way through Wendaya, then another star system, then another, then another…

They’d thrown the Syndics off their tracks with the lunge back into Syndicate Worlds’ space to hit Sancere, but how much longer could they keep the Syndics from correctly guessing their next destination and mustering overwhelming force there?

TWO

HELL-LANCE batteries hurled their charged-particle spears at the Syndic military base and minor dockyard that had orbited this outlying gas giant in the Baldur System for centuries. Most of the facilities seemed to have been mothballed, probably for decades, and not many Syndic personnel remained as caretakers to manage the few systems remaining operational. Right now those Syndic personnel were fleeing in-system in escape pods, while behind them both active and inactive parts of the base and dockyard were shredded by hell-lance fire at point-blank range.

Geary had decided to spread out among the fleet the fun of annihilating Syndic facilities on their way toward the mining site. In this case, he’d let the Eighth Battleship Division have the honors. Relentless, Reprisal, Superb, and Splendid swung past the Syndic base, their massive firepower ripping apart equipment, stockpiles of supplies and spare parts, and the dockyards, which might still have offered occasional support for those obsolete corvettes.

The next target would be the mining facility they needed to capture intact. Given humanity’s apparently unceasing drive to build and preserve things, Geary couldn’t help ponder the irony that in human wars it always seemed far easier to destroy something than it was to try to take it in one piece.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Geary looked over from the display showing the battleships smashing the Syndic installation and saw that Victoria Rione had entered his stateroom unannounced. She could do that, since he’d set the room’s security features to allow her access, a legacy of the days when she’d been sharing his bed. He had thought about changing the settings again, given Rione’s distance, but had avoided the step.

Now he shrugged in response to her question. “It’s necessary.”

Rione gave him an enigmatic look and sat down opposite him, maintaining the distance she’d kept from Geary since Ilion. “‘Necessary’ is a matter of choice, John Geary. There’s no bright, clear line dividing what must be done from what we choose to do.”

Somehow he thought Rione was referring to something unspoken. Damned if he could figure out what that was, though. “I’m aware of that.”

“I think you usually are,” Rione conceded, an unusual step for her. Then she studied him for a moment before speaking again. “Usually. The commanding officers of the ships belonging to the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation have spoken to me about your latest fleet conference.”

Geary fought down a flash of irritation. “You don’t need to keep reminding me that those ships will follow your recommendations since you’re co-president of the Callas Republic.”

“No,” Rione replied sharply. “I don’t imagine Black Jack enjoys challenges to his authority. I understand you faced some more of that and dealt with them severely.”

“I need to maintain control of this fleet, Madam CoPresident! I could’ve reacted much more strongly than I did, and you know it.”

Instead of hurling his anger back at him, Rione grimaced and sat back. “You could’ve. The important thing isn’t that I know that; it’s that you know it. You’re thinking about the things you could do, the things you could get away with, as Black Jack. Isn’t that so?”

Geary hesitated. He didn’t want to admit that, but Rione was the only person he could possibly be open with about it. “Yes. Those options are occurring to me.”

“They didn’t used to, did they?”

“No.”

“How long can you stop him, John Geary? Black Jack gets to do whatever he wants because he’s a legendary hero. Because he’s won dramatic victories in command of this fleet.”

Geary glared at her. “If I don’t win victories, this fleet dies.”