The Lost Fleet – Dauntless

It only gradually dawned on him that Titan was distressingly unaccompanied. “Where’re the ships that are supposed to be acting as close escort on Titan?” He expanded his look at the situation again. “All the support craft accompanying the fleet are missing their escorts. Where the hell are the escorts for the auxiliaries?” No one on the Dauntless’s bridge answered.

He’d avoided verbally blasting most of the other ships in the fleet again for being slow to get into formation, not wanting to give in to what he suspected was bad temper as opposed to professional judgment. But falling back into formation should’ve been a relatively quick and easy maneuver for the assigned escorts. If they’d actually been headed for their positions, they must have been in them by now. This was simply too careless-Careless? Or something else? Geary took another look at the way the ships in his fleet were strung out, then pulled the view back to get the two Syndic corvettes into the focus.

It took him entirely too long to figure out what was going on, but he finally did. “Ancestors save us all!”

Desjani stared at him, clearly wondering if the vague outburst this time referred to her own ship. “Captain Geary?”

Geary just concentrated on his display, trying to get control of his anger and voice before speaking. Finally, he pointed at the movements of the Alliance ships. “Those…fools…aren’t getting into formation because they’re all trying to get in on the kill when we make contact with those corvettes.” Now that he’d realized what was happening, it seemed obvious, the way almost the entire Alliance formation had bent and stretched toward the place where the fleet would intercept the Syndic corvettes. Most of Geary’s fleet had abandoned or ignored their assigned positions, and their assigned duties in the larger scheme of things, just so they could possibly get a lick in when the corvettes were annihilated by a ridiculously overwhelming force.

Desjani looked as if she were hesitant to speak, then finally began talking. “Aggressiveness is the primary-”

“Aggressiveness! That’s what you call this?”

“‘Close with the enemy,’” Desjani stated in a way that again sounded like a quote to Geary. Then she confirmed it. “That was one of the final orders given at Grendel.” Desjani watched him, knowing he’d make the connection.

And Geary remembered, trying once again not to let his emotions show. Because, after all, those events during a battle a century before in the Grendel Star System hadn’t been much more than a month ago for him. His ship had lost communications with the other units in the convoy as they battled the Syndics. But before the loss in communications, one of the last orders he’d given his own ship, which would’ve been heard over the command net, had been “close with the enemy.” “You’re not seriously telling me that…that…”

She nodded, radiating pride now. Pride in herself, in the fleet, and in Geary. “That’s our primary rule of engagement in the Alliance fleet. Be aggressive. Never hesitate, never delay. Close with enemy, just as Black Jack Geary ordered long ago,” Desjani declared, her face glowing.

Geary wanted to grab her and shake her. You idiot! All of you idiots! That’s not a one-size-fits-all solution to every tactical situation! It’s not even smart a lot of the time! “By every ancestor of every sailor in this fleet, Captain Desjani, discipline matters as much as aggressiveness! A few frigates can take down those corvettes. I was going to send a single squadron of them to do it.”

“They know they’re fighting under the eyes of Black Jack Geary, sir! They want to show you how good they are!”

“They’re not! They’re acting like an untrained mob! They’re ignoring my orders!” Geary bit back whatever he might’ve said next. Desjani and the other members of the Dauntless’s crew were staring at him as if he’d just slapped Desjani. “Look, aggressiveness is all well and good in its place, but if it’s not matched to intelligent tactics and coordinated, disciplined actions, it’s a recipe for disaster.”

Desjani’s pride had shaded into stubbornness. “It’s served us well, sir. The Alliance fleet is proud of its fighting spirit.”

Instead of shooting back another harsh reply, Geary took a deep breath. Yeah, it’s “served you well.” No wonder the fleet had lost so many ships. No wonder the fleet had snatched eagerly at the bait the Syndics dangled and ended up on the verge of destruction. And they were doing these things out of a totally warped view of Geary’s own philosophy. I don’t even know whether or not to feel guilty. Is it my fault if the example of Black Jack Geary they’re blindly following isn’t actually true and never was?

It’s going to take time to change this. I can’t just tell them they’re wrong. If they accept that, it’ll crush their spirit. If they don’t accept it, they won’t change, and my own authority will be even shakier than now.