EIGHT
LIKE the average fleet officer, Geary had always thought of fleet headquarters as a distant place occupied by people whose primary jobs were to satisfy the desires of supreme commanders to have bigger staff empires than their counterparts, and to make up arbitrary, arduous, and absurd things to order the men and women in fleet units to carry out. But, since being reawakened and thrust into roles in which he dealt much more frequently with fleet headquarters, he had learned a lot more about that staff, and as a result, his distrust had grown by leaps and bounds.
As the message played, Geary saw two images standing before him instead of a single person. “This is Admiral Tosic,” the tall, lean fleet officer said, his tone of voice challenging, “supreme commander of Alliance fleet operations.” The former fleet supreme commander, Admiral Celu, had been replaced already? He wondered if Celu had retired voluntarily or if she had been pushed out.
The woman next to Tosic sounded less belligerent, but still forceful. “General Javier, supreme commander of Alliance ground forces.”
“Your orders, Admiral Geary,” Tosic began without any polite preliminaries, “are to take the First Battle Cruiser Division along with a squadron of light cruisers and three squadrons of destroyers to Adriana Star System. No additional fleet forces are authorized under any circumstances. Operation analysis at fleet headquarters confirms that a task force of that size will be adequate for the assigned mission, and current limitations on funding do not permit the luxury of deploying more forces than needed. Once at Adriana, you are to coordinate with Alliance ground forces to carry out the return of Syndic refugees to Batara Star System, taking any actions necessary and proper to ensure that the refugee problem at Adriana is resolved. Upon completion of that mission, return your forces to Varandal and await further orders. Tosic, out.”
The images vanished. Geary regarded the area before him where they had been, then called up a star display to refresh his memory of Adriana and Batara, wondering why he had a dim memory of the latter star system. As he had recalled, Adriana was inside Alliance space, but Batara . . . “Tanya, can you come down to my stateroom? I want to discuss my new orders with you.”
She was there within minutes, frowning, as Geary played the message again and Admiral Tosic delivered the orders.
“You know,” Tanya remarked acidly as the message ended, “Tosic thinks he sounds powerful when he talks like that, but he really just sounds pompous. Where’s Batara?”
“Here.” Geary indicated a star display he had just reactivated. “I remembered it because it used to be part of the Hansa Group.”
“The Hansa Group?”
“It was an association of four star systems that rejected all invitations to join with the Alliance or the Syndicate Worlds,” Geary explained. “They wanted to be completely independent.”
Desjani glanced at the star display. “Since Batara has been in Syndic space for a really long time, I guess that didn’t work out too well for the Hansa Group.”
“No. One day, the Syndics swept in, claiming they had been invited, and took over. That was about three years before the Syndics attacked the Alliance. It was the biggest war scare we had before . . . well, before we had a war.”
“We didn’t do anything?” Desjani asked, biting off each word as it came out.
“No.” He remembered that all too well, the mix of anticipation in the Alliance fleet that the Syndics might finally get their heads slapped hard, and fear of whether such a limited operation to restore Hansa Group independence would escalate into a wider war between the Alliance and the Syndics. But he said nothing about that, guessing that Tanya and other people from this time would find such concerns incomprehensible.
“Maybe if we’d done something . . .” she growled.
“Maybe,” Geary said. “Maybe it would have given the Syndics enough pause that they never attacked the Alliance. Or, it might have led to the same war, starting three years earlier. It’s a road not taken, Tanya. We don’t know where it would have led. Maybe to this exact same destination.”
“Not exactly. You wouldn’t be here.” She eyed him, then smiled. “Or maybe you would be, if that was intended to happen no matter what.” The smile faded as quickly as it had come. “Refugees from Batara are getting to Adriana? They would have to go through Yokai to reach Adriana. Yokai never fell to the Syndics during the war even though there were some nasty fights there. Why aren’t the Alliance defenses at Yokai stopping the refugees now?”
Geary reached out to tap the image of the Alliance-controlled star, gazing at the data that appeared next to it. “I passed through Yokai a couple of times, a hundred years ago. Not a lot there. Small towns and orbiting facilities scattered around the marginal and uninhabitable planets that orbit the star. They subsisted mainly on the interstellar traffic passing through on its way to somewhere else. It looks like those towns disappeared a long time before the hypernet was constructed and eliminated most of that traffic, though.”
She pointed again. “Everything that wasn’t destroyed by Syndic attacks was abandoned or converted into fortifications and defense facilities.”
“What happened to the people who lived there?”
“The ones who didn’t die? The usual, most likely, since Yokai doesn’t have any planets that are habitable for humans, had a fairly small population, and no cities. See, Yokai is a Special Defensive Zone, off-limits to all but the military. When the star system was designated an SDZ, the civilians who lived and worked there would have been relocated. A lot of them probably got sent to Adriana.” She paused for several long seconds, looking at the star display in a gloomy way. “Not a lot of people, I guess, compared to a star system with a habitable planet and a good-sized population, but they all lost their homes.”
“Alliance refugees,” Geary said.
“Yeah. And now Adriana has a new batch of refugees to worry about. But why aren’t they being stopped before they get there?” She peered at the display, suddenly intent. “Hold on.” Tanya touched an inconspicuous symbol next to Yokai, waited, then touched it again. “I’m getting a classified data refusal. What information is supposed to be classified above the level of a fleet captain? You’re fleet commander. Try hitting that.”
He reached out and touched the same symbol, producing a notice that popped into existence. “I guess I’m cleared for it. Ancestors!” He couldn’t help saying that as he saw what the previously hidden notice reported.
The civilians had been kicked out of Yokai many decades before. Now the military had also left. Even though the outer layer of information on the display had shown strong defenses still in place at Yokai, the classified notice dated to the most recent update of Dauntless’s information reported that in fact those war-related bases were now deserted, hastily closed down and mothballed as part of the drastic scaling back in defense outlays by the Alliance government. “That explains why Yokai isn’t stopping the refugees. There’s no one there to stop them. Or even report that they’re coming through.”
“They shut down the border defenses facing the Syndics there?” Desjani asked incredulously. “Were they surprised when that created problems?”
“They might have been surprised if they were deeply enough in denial,” Geary said. “Or if different offices didn’t tell each other what they were doing. Adriana must be mad as hell about this.”
“They probably don’t know,” Desjani said. “Yokai is still an SDZ. Nobody from the Alliance is allowed to go there without official approval.”
“But the Syndics know! They’re coming through there! Why keep it secret from our own— Oh, never mind. I’ll find out when I get to Adriana.”
She cocked her head slightly to one side as she looked at him. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Something besides the mission?”
“Yeah.” He inhaled slowly, trying to find the right words. “Tanya, once upon a time there was a . . . a community that lived at Yokai. It was their home. I went through Yokai twice on ships. I saw it. And I’m the last one alive who saw it. How many people still remember what was there?”
Tanya sighed. “Admiral . . . Jack . . . if you start trying to add up all of the things lost in the last century, you’ll go mad. The list will never end.”
“I won’t forget.”
“Fine. Don’t forget. But you also have to remember what’s going on right now. They want you to take a division of battle cruisers?” Tanya demanded with renewed anger. “But only one division. Sending you there with battle cruisers looks like massive overkill for a refugee return operation, but if money is as short as they say, they wouldn’t give you more than whatever bare minimum their ops analysis identified. Which means one division isn’t enough, and this mission is a bigger job than it appears to be.”
“The last time I went through that region of Alliance space,” Geary said, “there were only two divisions of battle cruisers in the entire Alliance fleet.”
“Yes, sir. I will point out what we both already know, that you are talking ancient history, and that returning those refugees to Batara means going into Syndic space, and based on what the Syndics did on our trip back from Midway, one division of battle cruisers is guaranteed not to be enough to take on this mission.”
“I don’t have any alternative,” Geary said. “The orders are clear and unambiguous. And the money isn’t there. Captain Smythe has told me the same thing.”
“Admiral Tosic has found plenty of money to build that new fleet!”
“Somebody has, but we don’t have that money. I can ask Captain Smythe to divert funds from repair and refit work on the old and damaged ships of this fleet, but those funds aren’t enough as it is.”
She glowered at nothing, then nodded. “Fine. Dauntless is ready to go. I’ll need a couple of days to get Daring and Victorious out of refit status—”
“Tanya, the orders specified the First Battle Cruiser Division.”
“You can’t— Admiral, there isn’t— The First Division only has three ships since we lost Brilliant!”
“I know.” He also knew why she was really upset, but he avoided mentioning it directly. “This will give you a chance to let Dauntless go into stand-down for repairs, which will also allow her crew to go on leave and see their homes.”
“You intend going into Syndic space without me?” Desjani flexed her hands helplessly. “I— Admiral— Dammit.”
“I’ll have Duellos with me on Inspire.”
“That’s not the same thing! Inspire is not Dauntless, and Duellos is not . . .” She looked at him, uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Ever since we found you again, ever since we recovered you from that failing escape pod, I’ve kept an eye on you so you could . . . complete your mission.”
“You tried to leave me once,” Geary pointed out. “When the war ended and—”
“I knew that you would come after me!” Desjani lowered her head and grimaced. “I’m being a fool. I know it. But headquarters must be setting you up for trouble. You know they are. This mission sounds simple. But they want you to fail.”
“And I will miss having you there to help me spot trouble before it spots me,” Geary said with total sincerity. “And I will miss being aboard Dauntless. But Roberto Duellos is sharp. He’s no Tanya Desjani, but I think he can do the job.”
“How about your stress levels?”
She knew better than anyone how much post-trauma had been impacting him at times. “Better. Much better. I’m not sure why, yet. I’ll be all right.”
“Yes, sir.” She looked up, straightening and smoothing out her expression. “These are your orders, this is your job, and I am a professional. What can I do to help?”
“You’re doing it now. But I’ll also appoint you acting fleet commander in my absence. That way I won’t have to worry about anything going wrong here while I’m gone.”
“Yeah. Right. What if Jane Geary makes it back while you’re gone?”
“You retain acting command.” He tried not to let worry show in his voice, but Tanya spotted it anyway.
“Jane will make it back,” she reassured him. “Diamond and the Dancers might show up, too. I’ll try to keep everyone here until you get back. What about taking one of the assault transports and some extra Marines with you?”
“That’s not authorized, Tanya. I’ll just bring those Marines assigned to the battle cruisers in the First Division. Ground forces are supposed to do any heavy lifting of that nature that this mission requires.”
She paused, then gave him a keen look. “You should know that Roberto Duellos is under a lot of extra pressure. His wife hasn’t quite given him an ultimatum of the fleet or your family, but it’s getting close to that, and it’s a devil’s choice for him either way. If he leaves the fleet, he’ll be lost, unable to find anything else that he cares about doing. But if he loses his family, he’ll be just as lost.”
Geary winced as he ran that dilemma through his mind. “He’s likely to be distracted.”
“No. He’s too good for that. He might be distracted. Keep it in mind. Speaking of distractions, don’t worry about those items from Europa that were offered for sale. That sale has been permanently shut down.”
“You talked to Gioninni?”
“That depends how you define ‘talked to,’” Tanya replied. “The message was conveyed in unmistakable terms. I told you it would be a good idea for Gioninni to watch Smythe because that meant Smythe would start watching Gioninni. There may be no honor among thieves, but there is competition.”
“Thanks, Tanya. For everything.”
“If you want to thank me, get your head out of the past, focus on the present, and get your butt back here in one piece . . . sir.”
? ? ?
THERE were always too many things to do and too little time to do them in.
And yet, as Geary walked restlessly through Dauntless on the day prior to transferring to Inspire, he found himself at the worship compartments. He paused, thinking of all the tasks yet to accomplish, then walked slowly to one of the small rooms that was currently vacant. He closed the door, shutting out the eyes of crew members, who were courteously pretending not to intrude on his privacy, then sat down on the small wooden bench. On a shelf before him sat a candle, which he lit.
The candle flickered in the slight draft caused by the compartment’s ventilation, light and shadows dancing on the walls. Geary stared at the flame, trying to see any hint of images or guidance within it. Everyone thinks I have some special knowledge, or special link to the living stars, but all I have is the hope that my ancestors will tell me things I need to know.
All I have is what everyone else has, the hope that I’m doing the right thing.
Am I?
He tried to let his mind drift, open to anything that might enter. But despite his best efforts, he kept focusing on the upcoming mission. It must be a trap. I have to assume it’s a trap of some kind. Just as if I’m dealing with the Syndics, even though these aren’t the Syndics.
What exactly triggered the memory that came to mind? His father, looking angry, as he had in life often enough to have taught young Geary to face the disapproval stoically. “Why didn’t you ask me?” his father had demanded.
Geary felt a remembered chill inside as his ten-year-old self had answered. “I thought I knew what you wanted.” And you would have gotten angry at being asked.
“Don’t assume! Don’t assume you know what I want!”
He shook his head, coming back to the present, startled by the intensity of the memory. Don’t assume. Why did I remember that? I can’t even recall exactly what that was about. I just remember that it was something I had been sure was right, and it wasn’t.
Was that a message?
Geary looked at the flame. All right, Father. Maybe you’ve unbent enough in the light of the living stars to explain, something you rarely did when alive. I forgave you for that a long time ago. It would be just like his father, though, to offer advice in the form of a lecture.
Am I not to assume this mission is a trap? I have to. That’s the only safe option.
But that doesn’t mean I should close my eyes to the possibility that there is something else going on.
Thank you, ancestors. Thank you, Father.
He snuffed out the candle and left the compartment, feeling oddly comforted by the ambiguous message he might have received.
? ? ?
INSPIRE felt subtly wrong. The same class and type of ship as Dauntless, Inspire had been thrown together as fast as possible, just like Dauntless, in the expectation that she would be destroyed in battle within a couple of years at the most, or so badly damaged that she would be broken up for parts and scrap. The layout of the ship was identical, and the design of the bridge and other critical spaces the same as on Dauntless.
But Geary had been aboard Dauntless long enough to be acquainted with every rough weld, every sharp edge, as well as every place where damage and repairs had resulted in minor changes from the original. Inspire had different rough welds in different places, different sharp edges in different places, and minor differences in equipment and its placement. It was like looking at an identical twin who wasn’t . . . identical.
He sat in a fleet command seat that wasn’t exactly like the one he was used to, next to the seat holding Captain Roberto Duellos instead of Captain Tanya Desjani, and tried not to let it all throw him off. I am a fleet officer. It is ridiculous, and wrong, and unprofessional, to be tied to a single ship in the fleet. Besides, Dauntless is Tanya’s ship, not mine, and—
Dauntless is Tanya’s ship.
Have I grown too dependent on her advice? Tanya is good. Very good. But I can’t afford to need her support. As good a combat team as we are, I need to be able to handle things on my own.
Varandal’s hypernet gate was close, Captain Duellos patiently waiting for Geary’s approval to enter it.
But he paused a moment longer, gazing at his display. Inspire had not yet left Varandal, so he could still see Dauntless there, but already light-hours distant. He hadn’t been so far from her since being awakened in this time, except for his brief honeymoon to Kosatka. Nor had he ever been so far from another “her,” Tanya. I shouldn’t have made her fleet commander. I should have left her free to take some leave herself, to go back to Kosatka and see her parents again.
Who am I kidding? She wouldn’t have gone. At least making her acting commander of the First Fleet ensures that she’s tied down and can’t come racing after me, with half the fleet at her back. “Captain Duellos, permission granted to enter the hypernet gate, destination Adriana Star System.”
? ? ?
HE had expected to find a mess at Adriana Star System. He hadn’t expected to find a hot mess.
As Geary’s small task force left the hypernet, his display updated in a rush. It had already shown the seven planets orbiting the star, one of which at nine light-minutes from the star was slightly cold for human comfort but otherwise not bad at all. Another planet orbiting only two light-minutes away from the star was a scorching, bare rock. Farther out past the habitable world, a pair of mismatched planets whirled around each other as both circled the star, producing tidal forces so strong that humans avoided the two. The remaining three planets were gas giants sailing majestically through space, ignoring the human mining and industrial facilities orbiting them like parasitic insects.
That much matched Geary’s few memories of Adriana. The human population had boomed thanks to the war and Adriana’s position directly behind the fought-over border star systems, resulting in many more towns, larger cities, and more installations in space. There hadn’t been a hypernet when he had last been through this region of space, and Adriana wasn’t a wealthy enough star system to have qualified for one of the extremely expensive hypernet gates on the basis of its economy. But the star’s position near the border with the Syndicate Worlds had made a gate necessary, part of the defensive network built up during the war. For decades, that gate had been used to help quickly shift Alliance forces to wherever the Syndics had launched attacks, or to swiftly assemble Alliance forces for attacks on the Syndics.
There were numerous new defense installations. From this far out, even Inspire’s sensors couldn’t immediately spot any signs of cutbacks here, but Geary suspected many of those installations were in worse shape than they looked. If his fleet had been ordered to send out inflated readiness reports, very likely the units here had received similar orders.
Basic bits of information about the star system were confirmed in a rush, then Geary focused on the activity here as new symbols popped into existence to reveal the current situation. What looked like a full squadron of aerospace forces short-range Fast Attack Craft was in orbit about the habitable world, trying to keep a motley collection of civilian freighters and passenger liners corralled. Many of those freighters and liners were aging Syndic models, as were another dozen scattered through the star system, fleeing attempts at being intercepted by more aerospace craft lunging out from the planets and moons on which they were based. Official comm channels were filled with transmissions of orders flying back and forth, as well as with demands, petitions, complaints, arguments, pleas, threats, debates, and explanations.
“There is a ground forces general in charge here,” Inspire’s comm watch-stander reported tentatively. “But the aerospace forces colonel is issuing orders that contradict the ground forces orders. And the government of Adriana is giving orders to the general, while the general and the colonel are giving orders to the government. There are local police authorities also weighing in, as well as other varieties of local officials. And all of the refugee ships are demanding to be let go or to be granted asylum or pleading for help. That’s just a basic rundown, sir. It’s actually a lot more complicated than that.”
Duellos ran through several possible expressions before deciding on simple acceptance. “Those aerospace craft don’t have the legs to intercept all of the loose refugee ships. I recommend we send some destroyers after them, Admiral.”
“Some destroyers? We’re going to send all of them.” He paused, wondering what he was expecting. Oh. This is where Tanya would jump in and start helping assign specific destroyers to specific refugee ships. Duellos is deferring to me on the matter, waiting for orders, because we don’t have that kind of established working relationship. But there weren’t that many destroyers or that many refugee ships, so it was a simple matter for Geary himself to tap units on his display, rapidly designating one or two destroyers to head for each fleeing refugee ship. “All destroyers in Task Force Adriana, execute attached orders. Intercept and round up your assigned targets, then escort them to join the other refugee ships being guarded in orbit. I don’t want those refugee ships disabled or destroyed. Fire warning shots only. Request permission before firing on the ships if that proves necessary.”
He sat back, watching the destroyers leap away from the formation, their paths forming a spray of graceful curves on the display.
“They would have preferred being sent to destroy those ships,” Duellos commented.
“I know. But I don’t have any stomach for massacring civilian refugees,” Geary replied.
“I doubt they would, either, once they thought about it. You’ve gotten us all out of the habit.” Duellos shook his head, making a face. “From the sound of the messages we’re picking up, no one is in charge here.”
“How is that possible? Why isn’t the aerospace forces colonel paying attention to the orders from the ground forces general?”
Duellos shrugged. “Separate services. In a real crisis, they would hopefully cooperate well enough, but without an imminent Syndic threat to focus their attention, they’re fighting for turf. Even though the aerospace commander here is a colonel, that rank is equal to the ground forces general’s.”
“It is?” Geary asked, eyeing one of the messages from General Sissons, the ground forces commander. The general’s ideas of motivating subordinates and conveying orders appeared to depend heavily on yelling, profanity, and threats. Geary had been subjected to a few superiors like that in the course of his career. To their own superiors, they were unfailingly polite and proper, but the living stars help those unfortunate enough to work for them. “I can see why the aerospace forces aren’t giving any ground when it comes to working with that guy, but why can they get away with it?”
Duellos raised his eyebrows at Geary. “You don’t know?”
“No. And I want to know because I don’t want this General Sissons trying to pull rank on me if I can help it.”
“I’m sorry. Sometimes, I forget that your experience with the way things work these days is still limited, and I assume that things always worked that way. Yes, technically, General Sissons is very likely senior to you. Your promotion to admiral was less than a year ago. If you approach him as Admiral Geary to General Sissons, he can walk all over you. He can try, anyway,” Duellos amended as Geary reacted to those words. “But as commander of fleet forces in this star system, you are his equal. See how the aerospace forces colonel is handling it? She always uses her status as aerospace forces commander when dealing with General Sissons, rather than her status as a colonel.”
“That’s . . . a little screwy. The Alliance has really allowed military command protocols to deteriorate to the point where no one is in charge of a star system?”
“You saw that at Varandal,” Duellos pointed out. “The ground forces and aerospace forces there don’t answer to Admiral Timbale. But if there is a specific operation, in a combat zone, an overall commander will be appointed. If Admiral Bloch had brought a division or two of ground forces along when we made that ill-advised lunge for the Syndicate home star system at Prime, he would have been in charge of them as well as the fleet units because the assault force would have been organized that way.”
The implications of that finally sank home. “If we’re equals, I don’t have to do what Sissons says, but I can’t make Sissons provide whatever assistance I need to get those refugees back to Batara.”
Duellos spread his hands. “You also can’t make the aerospace forces colonel do whatever you want. You might be able to overawe them. You are Black Jack. But you’ll have to convince them that whatever you are demanding is required to carry out the task specified in your orders and that your orders are consistent with their orders.”
And General Sissons’s orders surely also contained the old phrasing all actions necessary and proper, which offered substantial wiggle room, as well as substantial grounds to declare that anything he was asked to do was unnecessary or improper or both. In order to get this mission done, Geary might have to wheel and deal and convince and implore like some politician. He finally got a good sense of how fleet command processes had sunk to the level they had been at when he took control of the fleet at Prime. “How the hell did we avoid losing the war a long time ago?” Geary muttered.
“The Syndics are worse,” Duellos said.
“Yeah. I guess they are. All right. I’ve already acted by sending my destroyers out after those loose refugee ships, which demonstrates my capabilities and my willingness to use them. I’ll contact General Sissons and Colonel . . . Galland and see how they respond. It will take a day and a half for us to reach that habitable planet, which gives us all time to work something out.”
In his earlier career, he would have been at a loss to formulate a message designed to convince other commanders to cooperate with him rather than either telling them what to do or submitting to their authority. But he had learned a few things since then. “To General Sissons, commander of Alliance ground forces in Adriana Star System, and Colonel Galland, commander of Alliance aerospace forces in Adriana Star System, this is Admiral Geary, commander of Alliance fleet forces in Adriana Star System.” He marveled at the requirement to take a breath after that lengthy beginning to the message. “I look forward to working with both of you to resolve the refugee situation here. Your assistance and advice will be critical to a successful resolution of the issue. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”
Duellos nodded approvingly. “Not bad. Spoken with authority, but not with enough force to get their backs up, and extending a hand for cooperation. You always say you’re not good at politics, but that wasn’t bad at all.”
“I guess I’ve spent too much time around Victoria Rione. She’s always made a point of explaining things like that to me.”
“Ah. I see. That woman.”
“Don’t you start calling her that, too. It’s bad enough that Tanya refuses to say her name.”
Duellos grinned. “I just want you to feel at home.”
“Thanks.” Geary gestured toward his display. “Can your comm people do some analysis for me?”
“Certainly. What do have in mind?” Duellos asked, intrigued.
“According to what we’re picking up so far, all of the ground and aerospace assets at Adriana are still at full strength and ready for action. But First Fleet’s warships were ordered to send out deceptive status reports about their readiness.”
“And the same might be happening here?” Duellos nodded. “But if it is, analyzing comm patterns will give us an idea of whether or not the external picture we’re getting is a true one. Yes, Admiral, my crew can get you something on that. It will take a while to assemble a good picture, but within a day or so we should be able to tell you whether Adriana’s defenses are still solid or just a hollow shell.”
? ? ?
THE first reply came from Colonel Galland, about six and a half hours later. She looked tired, but her eyes were sharp. “Welcome to Adriana, Admiral. I see that your destroyers are already on the move. I appreciate your assistance in collecting the rest of the Syndic refugee ships. We’ve been overwhelmed by the number of ships and refugees, and my craft aren’t designed for this kind of situation. The fleet always handled things like this, usually intercepting it at Yokai. But the last fleet assets were apparently pulled out of Yokai a couple of months ago. There were two fleet destroyers still here at Adriana, but they were withdrawn three weeks ago. Since then, we’ve been scrambling to handle the refugee problem with what we have on hand.”
Galland smiled bitterly. “Half of my squadrons were supposed to be decommissioned by now, but I won a reprieve by getting the local government to raise hell with Adriana’s senators at Unity. I’m still expecting the cutbacks to take effect at some point, though, so unless you’re going to be stationed here for the long haul, we need to come up with a solution for what is going on at Batara. Once those squadrons are gone, my headquarters here will probably be downsized as well, and me with them. You might find this seat empty when you get back from Batara.”
She smiled without visible humor again. “If you don’t know General Sissons, fair warning. He’s a neutron star. No light, no warmth, just toxic radiation that destroys bodies and souls in his vicinity. He’ll want you to do everything, he’ll find reasons not to do anything himself, and he’ll take credit for everything that went right when it’s done. But he sucks up to the right people, so he’ll survive the reductions in force. He’s only got a few months left here before he jaunts off to ground forces headquarters.”
The sour smile shifted to grim resolve. “Admiral, I spent fifteen years fighting the Syndics and protecting Alliance star systems against them. My predecessor in this job died fending off an assault on this star system while your fleet was fighting its way back home from Prime. And now all that’s left is coping with refugees, getting ready to turn off the lights when the last person leaves this building, and turning in my uniform when I get downsized, too. Which is why I’m being frank with you. I’d rather go out having accomplished something than playing along in hopes of prolonging my career another year or so. There’s not much more I can do with my hands full just keeping the Syndic refugees from scattering into Alliance territory. Whatever else I can do, though, I will. To the honor of our ancestors, Galland, out.”
The reply from General Sissons came in nearly six hours after that. By checking local planetary time, Geary could see that his message had reached the planet during the night. Sissons hadn’t sent his reply until morning.
“This is General Sissons. Geary, I want full status updates on all of your ships and a briefing on your plan of action for returning the refugees to Batara using fleet assets only. My own forces have commitments that have stretched them to their limits. I see that you’ve already taken some limited actions to compensate for the lamentable lack of fleet support here in recent months. I don’t approve of unilateral decisions regarding the movements of your forces, which should be coordinated beforehand with my headquarters. For your future information, all communications with local governments, local law enforcement, local aerospace command, or anyone outside this star system, including fleet headquarters, must go through my headquarters using established channels in accordance with existing protocols. If you still have questions about my expectations and your orders, contact my chief of staff. Sissons, out.”
Geary’s first reaction when the message ended was to say a heartfelt prayer of thanks to the living stars that he wasn’t actually under the authority of General Sissons even though the general had done all he could to create the impression by his words that Geary would have to clear all of his actions and communications through him. Having finished the prayer, Geary mentally ran through a variety of entertaining responses he could send Sissons. But I can’t really tell him off like I want to. Anything I say to him has to appear reasonable and appropriate to others. I don’t want Sissons to goad me into making myself look bad.
He formulated a reply, imagining that first Tanya, then Victoria Rione were critiquing it. “General Sissons, this is the commander of Alliance fleet forces in Adriana Star System,” Geary began, keeping his tone bland. “In reply to your suggestions, I must inform you that I will abide by standard Alliance fleet communications protocols and communicate directly with anyone I have to contact. I am always open to your suggestions for the most effective employment of the fleet forces under my command, but of course authority for such actions rests with me. Since you have been dealing with the Syndic refugee problem here for some months, and my orders specify that ground forces will provide security for refugee return operations, I am interested in seeing as soon as possible the contingency plans and options your headquarters must have already developed for resolving the problem using your forces. Geary, out.”
He was still basking in the pleasure of having respectfully told Sissons where to stick his expectations when another message arrived, this one from the Adriana Star System government.
Most of the government seemed to have assembled to stand in the background as the elderly woman in the front spoke. Thanks to medical and genetic advances, age didn’t visibly appear in people anymore until they were getting near the ends of their lives, so Geary realized this woman must have been born in the first decades of the war, making her the closest thing to a contemporary he now had.
“Welcome, Admiral Geary,” she said with formal dignity. “The people of Adriana are honored beyond measure by your presence here and cannot express too strongly our gratitude for your assistance in dealing with our current troubles. We understand that you will be very busy with your labors, and will be contacting us regarding them, but if you have any time at all for social events we wanted you to know that the Adriana Academy for Children of the Armed Forces here contains a child who is descended from one of your crew on the Merlon. We know you would want to be aware of that. To the honor of our ancestors, President Astrida, out.”
Once again, he found himself staring at the empty place where a message had been playing out. They wanted him to physically visit their world, their city. Everyone wanted Black Jack to do that. With rare exceptions, he had been able to avoid doing so, begging off on the grounds of duty. He had seen firsthand on Kosatka how the citizens of the Alliance reacted to Black Jack, and the hero worship there, worship for someone he knew he was not, had unnerved him and strengthened his resolve to avoid similar situations.
However, a descendant of someone who had been on his heavy cruiser during the battle at Grendel? Just what was an Academy for Children of the Armed Forces? Some sort of college or university?
Geary looked up the term and read it twice before the meaning sank in. Orphanages established and funded by the Alliance government for those children who have lost both parents during military service in the war.
Both parents. And according to the ship’s database, there were enough children so afflicted that the Alliance had established dozens of those academies on worlds scattered throughout Alliance space. Captain Tulev . . . had he spent part of his childhood at such an academy after his home world was all but destroyed?
Geary himself had lost his entire living family to the war as well, though as an adult, when he literally slept through the rest of their lives while frozen in that escape pod. If he had been a child, it would have hurt so much more. He knew that. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to face those children. But . . .
Orphans. Why did it have to be orphans?
I’ll go see them. I’ll find the time. I owe them that.
? ? ?
“ADMIRAL, I have the information you asked for,” Duellos said.
Geary looked over at Duellos. He was trying to stop the simmering anger caused by the latest reply from General Sissons, which had simply punted the problem back to Geary rather than offering either forces or solutions. The anger was aimed as much at himself as at Sissons. I should have realized that Sissons could keep up this kind of thing indefinitely. I need a way to pressure him into supporting what it looks like will have to be my plan.
The battle cruisers Inspire, Formidable, Implacable, and the light cruisers with them, were only twenty-four light-minutes, or about four hours’ travel time at point one light speed, distant from the primary world at Adriana as they continued en route the planet. Geary, uncomfortable in the flag-officer quarters aboard Inspire, had come to the bridge to watch events and get a better feel for how Inspire ran. “Which information was that?”
“The true status of the military forces in this star system.” Duellos gestured a tall, trim male lieutenant forward. “Lieutenant Barber, please give the Admiral a rundown.”
“Yes, sir.” Barber called up a virtual window and began explaining it to Geary. “These are aerospace unit and base designations. Over here are ground forces unit and base designations. These lines represent all of the comm traffic to and from those units and bases that we’ve been able to identify. More traffic, thicker lines, less traffic, thinner lines. Much of the traffic on Adriana’s main planet would be by ground channels, such as buried cables, which we can’t spot from out here, but by monitoring message sequence numbers, we’re able to tell how many messages we’re not seeing.”
“That’s clear enough,” Geary said. “The aerospace units all seem to be pretty busy.”
“Yes, sir. We assess that the status reports we’re seeing from the aerospace forces are accurate and do represent the actual forces present in this star system.” Barber paused, his lips thinning as he looked to the ground forces side of the image. “But for the ground forces, some units don’t seem to be communicating with each other or with their headquarters except for those status reports saying all is well and they are at almost one hundred percent readiness.”
Geary shook his head. “You’re saying some ground forces units, but to me it looks like most of those units.”
“Yes, sir. Which is especially odd since elements of those units are supposed to be on duty at facilities off planet. There would have to be a lot of messages we could see. There’s nothing going to or from them, though, except daily status reports. One of my chiefs ran a pattern analysis on those status reports coming from units that had no other comm traffic. She found that when all reports are compared against each other, the number of minor problems reported each day, such as the number of personnel sick or percent of equipment temporarily degraded, closely matches the results produced by a simple random number generator.”
“They’re fake,” Geary said.
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Barber agreed. “My assessment is that those units do not actually exist.”
Geary looked toward Duellos. “Some of those units have been assigned to Adriana for a long time.”
“True enough,” Duellos said. “But that doesn’t mean they are still here.”
“The units were disestablished, but they were left in the comm systems?”
“In the entire command and control system,” Duellos corrected. “If you’re going to maintain the illusion of an army, you have to ensure the command and control system reflects that illusion.”
“My best estimate,” Lieutenant Barber said, “is that each of the two ground forces divisions still assigned here actually only have a single brigade of soldiers still active. The rest of the ground forces organization is just an empty shell that, as Captain Duellos says, produces the illusion of a much larger force than really exists.”
“Force reductions,” Geary said as he studied the image showing Barber’s analysis. “Done in such a way as to mask their impact. Ground forces divisions have three brigades these days? That means the ground forces in Adriana have been cut by two-thirds. The locals must know, though. You can’t hide all of those empty garrisons and camps. You can’t hide the lack of soldiers going out on liberty and spending money on the local economy.”
“The locals may know the truth,” Duellos said, “or they may be starting to guess the truth, but they may not wish to accept it. With what you told me about Yokai, it’s clear that the Alliance is going to extensive efforts to conceal how the force reductions have impacted its defenses near the border with the Syndicate Worlds.”
Lieutenant Barber pointed to some of the ground forces unit designations. “Sir, the locals may have been told that those missing soldiers were sent to Yokai. I saw a couple of reports that indicated the locals believe that the defenses at Yokai have been strengthened.”
“Maybe those defenses were strengthened,” Geary said, but he didn’t really believe it.
“Admiral,” Barber said with immense caution, “if, uh, if those missing units were at Yokai, there would not be any need to, uh, pretend they were still here.”
“You’re right,” Geary said. “Lieutenant Barber, I don’t mind people telling me when they have good reason to believe I may be wrong. In fact, I appreciate it. Thank you.”
Barber smiled with obvious relief. “Yes, sir. It’s just that . . . other admirals . . .”
“I know, Lieutenant. I’ve dealt with my own share of admirals who don’t want to ever be told they might be wrong.” Geary peered at the study again. “Both divisional headquarters are reporting that they are fully intact. Is that right?”
“As far as we can tell, yes, sir. Headquarters units appear to be fully operational. There are indications, requests for more workspace equipment and things of that nature, that they have grown a bit.”
“They gutted the fighting units, and not only kept the headquarters at full strength but made the headquarters larger?”
“When money is short, you have to keep your priorities straight,” Duellos observed sarcastically. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Excellent work. The Admiral and I will now discuss Great and Important Matters.”
“Yes, sir.”
Barber retreated to the comm watch station, and Duellos activated the privacy field around his and Geary’s seats. “Colonel Galland told you that the locals raised a fuss to maintain her wing at full strength,” Duellos said. “That probably didn’t endear Colonel Galland to her superiors.”
“No. I’m sure it didn’t,” Geary said. “And she said that General Sissons likes to suck up to his bosses though she didn’t say it quite so bluntly.”
Duellos smiled. “If General Sissons wanted above all to keep his superiors happy, he would have gone along without protest with any reductions in force passed on to him, and not told the locals so they wouldn’t raise any fuss that might upset Sissons’s bosses. We now know why Sissons hasn’t offered you any ground forces,” Duellos said. “He doesn’t have any to spare. Those who are left are maintaining the image of two full divisions. Judging by how many refugee ships we’re dealing with, we would need a substantial fraction of at least one brigade of ground forces to get this job done, and if that many more troops left Adriana, the whole imaginary house of cards would collapse as it became painfully obvious just how few Alliance soldiers were left here.”
“If by a substantial fraction you mean two regiments, yes, that’s what we need. Without those ground forces, I can’t carry out my orders.” Not a lethal trap, but a nasty one.
If that was the trap. Geary frowned at his display, which showed every portion of Adriana Star System and everything in it, though now he knew he couldn’t trust some of that data. If I fail to get this refugee situation resolved, it will be embarrassing for me. Not horrible or dangerous or unbearable. What sort of trap is that?
What am I missing?
One of his hands moved, drawing out the focus on the display. Out . . . out . . . out. The details inside Adriana vanished as the scale shifted to interstellar distances, abruptly going from light-hour scale to light-year scale. Adriana, Yokai, and on out some more until Batara came into view as well.
The answer hit in a rush. What was happening in Adriana was important, but there were also Yokai and Batara. And maybe some other Syndic star systems were involved, as well as possibly the remnants of the Syndicate Worlds government or a local warlord CEO. The source of the problem, and any solution, lay in other star systems.
So would any traps.