The Lost Fleet: Fearless

In one passageway he encountered Captain Desjani, surprised to see that she was demonstrating the sort of cheerfulness that usually only appeared after Desjani had watched a lot of Syndic ships be destroyed. “You seem in a good mood,” he commented.

She smiled back. “I recently had a long conversation with someone on Furious, sir.”

Furious was a ways off, with her once-again reconstituted task force, ready to carry off another special mission. Geary spent a moment wondering why Desjani would have had a long talk with Captain Cresida, given the time delay involved, then realized that hadn’t been who she had talked to. “How is Lieutenant Casell Riva?”

Desjani actually blushed slightly. “Very well, Captain Geary. He’s impressed by Captain Cresida and the new sensors and weaponry we have.”

“I see. I’m glad he’s pleased by the new weapons in the fleet.”

“Actually, he’s happy to be liberated, and seemed pleased to talk to me,” Desjani confessed.

“I suspect he really is pleased, Tanya. He’s fitting in okay, then?”

Her smiled faded a bit. “There’s been some rough moments, he said. That much time in a Syndic labor camp with no hope of release or rescue will take a while to overcome. Sometimes he wakes up in a panic, fearing that his liberation was only a hallucination. But of course he has hope now.” Desjani paused. “Cas-Lieutenant Riva was surprised to see the way you’re directing the fleet. The tactics you’re using. He’s still puzzled and torn by Captain Falco’s departure from the fleet. But he watched everything that happened at Sancere and was astounded, sir.”

Geary felt embarrassed himself. “A lot of things worked right. We were lucky.”

“You make much of your own luck, sir, if you don’t mind my saying so.” She paused again. “He’s still the man I remembered. Perhaps something will come of it.”

“I hope so. War messes up enough lives. It’s nice to think that two of them can have a chance to get back on track.”

Desjani nodded, her eyes distant with memory. “We’ll see. There’s a lot of time to make up and experiences to share. Did you know that among the records we downloaded at Sancere there was a huge database of Alliance prisoners of war? It’s not up to date, the latest information is about three years old, but it has a lot of names of people who for all we knew were dead. If-excuse me, sir-when we get back to Alliance space, a lot of people will be happy to see some of the names on that list.”

Geary gave her a curious look. “How long has it been since the Syndics shared captured personnel lists with the Alliance?”

“Decades at least. I’d have to check. At some point they decided not knowing if lost personnel were alive or dead would harm Alliance morale and stopped providing lists of prisoners. The Alliance did the same in retaliation, of course.”

That wasn’t a pleasant thought. Sending friends, lovers, and family off to battle was bad enough, but not knowing afterward what had happened to them was a form of slow torture. “We’ll have to get that list back, and maybe convince the Syndics to swap up-to-date lists.”

Desjani nodded. “If anyone can do that, you can,” she replied. “I’ve just started to look at the list. There’s so many names and the list is organized in an odd way, so I’m stumbling through it usually getting results I didn’t ask for. But there’s some people whose fates I’d like to check. Some of them were supposedly captured, some supposedly killed in battle. Maybe I can confirm those things now.”

“I guess you and a lot of other people will be doing that,” Geary noted, thinking that a list three years old wouldn’t tell him if some miracle had allowed his grandnephew to escape from Repulse before its destruction in the Syndic home system. That would remain an unknown for him, but best to assume Michael Geary was dead and be very pleasantly surprised if he turned up alive. There really weren’t many grounds for assuming he had survived the death of his ship.

Which brought his thoughts back to the thirty-nine ships that had accompanied Captain Falco at Strabo. How many of those had survived? He wished he already knew the answer, as terrible as that was likely to be. The uncertainty was almost as bad as the nagging, ugly conviction that few if any of them would survive to reach Ilion.

“THEY’RE here.”

Geary bolted from his stateroom without bothering to check his own display. He ran down long passageways and up ladders until he reached the bridge, gasping for breath as he dropped into his seat. Only then did he call up the display with a silent prayer for as many survivors as possible.

Amazingly, three battleships were there. Dauntless’s systems quickly identified them as Warrior, Orion, and Majestic. And a single battle cruiser, Invincible, so badly damaged that Geary had to double-check the assessment before he believed it. Of the six heavy cruisers that had accompanied the capital ships, only two remained. None of the four light cruisers were there, and of the nineteen destroyers only seven had survived.