The Lost Fleet: Courageous

“I deserved it,” she shot back, her anger seeming directed mostly at herself. “I’m a politician. I should understand the importance of what people believe.” She took a long, deep breath, calming herself. “I’m not oblivious to the pain of losing ships as large as battle cruisers, or any ships at all, but you should take comfort that you’re not losing battleships in equal numbers.”

Geary shook his head. “No. If I keep losing battle cruisers, then the battleships will start taking more losses.”

This time Rione looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Because the battle cruisers do certain jobs,” Geary explained. “They have the firepower of battleships but can accelerate, maneuver, and decelerate like heavy cruisers. They don’t have the shields or armor of battleships because they trade that off in favor of the ability to move faster. That makes battle cruisers very useful for certain tasks requiring speed as well as firepower. But if I lose enough battle cruisers, I’ll have to use battleships for those tasks, and battleships are too sluggish. They’ll get caught by Syndic battle cruisers, and even though one battleship can outfight one battle cruiser, it can’t handle four or more backed up by lighter combatants. Or I can use heavy cruisers and have them take even heavier losses until they’re all gone and I have to fall back on the battleships anyway.”

Rione finally frowned in understanding. “Losses will accelerate if we’re forced to use warships for tasks they’re not designed for.”

“Yeah.” Geary gestured at the display. “And if the major combatants, the battleships and battle cruisers, hold back at all, then the light cruisers and destroyers will get torn to pieces. It all ties together. I can’t get replacements for lost units, so I have to avoid being forced to expend what I’ve got.” He stared at the names of the ships, his mind filled with an image of the remains of the Terrible after it collided with a Syndic battle cruiser at Ilion. Or rather, an image of the flash of light that was all that remained of both ships after they struck each other at a decent fraction of the speed of light. Not just a ship but its entire crew blown to hell in an instant’s time. “Ancestors help me,” he whispered.

Geary felt Rione’s hand rest on his shoulder for a long moment, offering the comfort of a firm grasp, before it was withdrawn again. “I’m sorry.”

“Victoria-”

“No.” She stood up abruptly, her face averted from him. “Victoria isn’t here. Co-President Rione offers her condolences and her support. I’m sorry, Captain Geary.” She rushed out before he could say anything else.

“WHAT have you got?” Geary asked. He was gazing through a one-way screen at the interrogation room where the captain of the Syndic merchant ship they’d destroyed upon arrival in Baldur sat sweating with fear despite the slightly cool temperature of the compartment. Readouts and displays around the screen revealed everything about the Syndic’s physical state and the thought patterns in his brain. If the Syndic lied, it would be immediately obvious on the brain scans, and just being able to confront someone with that often produced results.

The intelligence officer, Lieutenant Iger, made a face. “Not much. The Syndics don’t tell their civilian population any details about military operations or losses.”

“Kind of like the Alliance?” Geary suggested dryly.

“Well, yes, sir,” the lieutenant admitted. “But worse, actually, and the Syndics don’t allow a free press or open discussion, so it’s harder for their citizens to figure out what’s actually going on. About all the merchant crew has been able to tell us is what they’ve been told in Syndic propaganda. Victory is certain, Syndic losses light, and this fleet was totally destroyed.”

“He knows that last certainly isn’t true,” Geary observed. “Where did his ship come from?”

“Tikana. Another system bypassed by the hypernet. His ship did trade runs on the margins, working for a Syndic corporation that lives off the economic scraps bigger corporations don’t bother with.”

“Not a lot of good, recent news or observations, then?”

“No, sir.” Lieutenant Iger gestured toward the figure of the Syndic merchant captain. “Scared to death, but he doesn’t seem able to tell us anything despite that.”

“I take it he hasn’t heard any rumors about this fleet?”

“No, sir,” the intelligence officer repeated. “He’s showing truthfulness when denying hearing anything like that. When we prompt him with names of systems we’ve been in, like Corvus or Sancere, he showed some recognition of the star system name but nothing more.”

Geary spent a moment wondering whether to actually speak with the Syndic, then decided he should. “I’ll go on in. What’s his name?”

“Reynad Ybarra, sir. His home world is Meddak.”