The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian (27 page)

“When I have the luxury of having enough time,” Geary said dryly, “I’ll give you enough time as well. Can we do this with a reasonable chance of success? How many Marines can you send down, General?”

“Same as before,” Carabali said. “Thirty. That’s how much stealth armor we have. Can thirty do the job? Looking at these images, I think so, but I’ll have a talk with my most experienced force-recon officers and senior enlisted and see what they say.”

Desjani made a face. “We’ll have to coordinate the drops of the Marines and the movements of our ships and shuttles so that everything happens within an extremely precise timeline. I don’t like timelines that require that kind of precision, that don’t have room for the unexpected, but I guess we don’t have any choice. How do we get those Marines out after we’ve pulled up the prisoners?”

“I think our battleships can handle that,” Geary said. “General, consult with your experts, give me a firm go/no-go, then get me a plan. Emissary Rione, please contact the Syndic CEO again, tell her the military bureaucracy and regulations are still holding things up but we’re planning on heading back in soon to get the prisoner recovery done. Lieutenant Iger, have your drones keep a close eye on that area and collect any more information they can without compromising their presence. Ensure that Lieutenant Jamenson is kept apprised of new information. Lieutenant Jamenson, keep doing what you’ve been doing. Commander Hopper, anything you can tell the Marines about the likely configuration of the Syndic trigger will be a great help. Contact General Carabali directly but keep Captain Smythe in the loop.”

Commander Hopper sighed, her eyes reflecting fatalistic acceptance. “I need to go along with the Marines when they drop.”

“What?” Geary, Smythe, and Carabali all said the same word at the same time.

“There are too many uncertainties about the trigger, and comms may be interrupted when the Syndics realize what we’re doing. You need someone there to look at that trigger and figure out what to do with it.”

“My scouts—” Carabali began.

“If they do the wrong thing, we lose six thousand prisoners,” Hopper said. “This trigger is going to be unique. It may have been designed to thwart the usual disabling techniques. The training and experience of your scouts won’t be sufficient to deal with it.”

“Can you do a stealth landing?” Smythe asked. “Keeping up with the Marines?”

“I’ll have to.”

Carabali eyed Hopper, nodding. “Let’s see whether you can. I’ll need you on
Mistral
as soon as possible, so we can see how you do in the simulators.”

“She’s even tougher than she looks,” Smythe offered.

“Let me know how it goes,” Geary ordered. “Let’s get to work.”

After the images of the others vanished, Lieutenant Iger lingered. “Admiral, about Lieutenant Jamenson . . .”

“Are you still concerned about her access to intel materiel?” Geary asked.

“No, sir! Absolutely not. She would be—she is—a tremendous asset. If she could be transferred to the intelligence office aboard
Dauntless
, I am certain that we would, uh, work very well together.”

“I see.” Unseen by Iger but visible to Geary, both Desjani and Rione grinned, though as soon as each realized the other was smiling both changed their expressions. “Don’t you think Lieutenant Jamenson’s hair would be distracting?”

“Distracting?” Iger asked. “I, uh, didn’t . . . really . . . notice . . . That is, no, sir.”

Geary nodded solemnly, grateful that a career of dealing with sailors had taught him how to keep a straight face in situations like this. “I will consider your recommendation, Lieutenant. However, I did make Captain Smythe a firm promise that I wouldn’t poach Lieutenant Jamenson from his staff, and she is carrying out some extremely important tasks for me aboard
Tanuki
.”

“Oh. I see, Admiral. I wouldn’t—”

“But I didn’t promise Captain Smythe that
you
wouldn’t offer her a different position. Feel free to speak to her about it.”

“Yes, sir!” Iger saluted hastily and rushed from the compartment, pausing only to hold the hatch as Rione followed.

Desjani waited until the hatch closed before she laughed. “A tremendous asset?”

“She would be,” Geary said.

“And I’m absolutely sure that’s all that Lieutenant Iger is thinking about.” Her smile faded again. “This op is going to be a bitch to carry off successfully.”

“I know.”

“TELL
the Syndics we’re going to make two passes above the prison-camp area,” Geary told Rione, “because we require two shuttle lifts to get all of the prisoners up.”

The fleet’s orbital track had been very carefully calculated so that the planet’s surface would track a bit to one side under it between passes. On the first pass, the fleet would pass just west of the prison-camp area. On Syndic displays in their control centers and command posts, the fleet’s orbit would be projected with one hundred percent certainty that the second pass would bring the fleet directly over the camp.

Windows showing Captain Armus of
Colossus
and Captain Jane Geary of
Dreadnaught
were open near the fleet command seat on
Dauntless
’s bridge. “You’ve got your initial maneuvering orders. Captain Armus, once your portion of the battleship force is cut loose, I want you to do everything you can to support the Marines on the ground at the trigger site. I don’t care how much of the surrounding landscape you have to tear up.”

Armus nodded, stolid and unperturbed. This fire-support mission was right up his alley.

“Captain Geary,” Geary continued, “your part of the battleship force is to keep those four groups of Syndic warships off Armus’s units and off the shuttles going down to pick up the Marines. Anticipate the movements of the Syndics and be there first. They don’t have the muscle to stand up to your ships, and if they try, I want them shot to pieces.”

“It will be a pleasure, Admiral,” Jane Geary replied. If anyone could use battleships in an active defense role, it would be her.

Desjani, sitting on the other side of the admiral, was trying not to let her displeasure show at the lesser role of the battle cruisers.

Orion
had been destroyed.
Relentless
,
Reprisal
,
Superb
, and
Splendid
were tied to
Invincible
, not only towing the superbattleship but also providing point defense for her. That left Geary with eighteen battleships, many of them scarred by fighting against enigmas, Kicks, and Syndics. Those battleships also lacked the maneuverability and speed of other warships, but all were massive, heavily armored, and bristling with weapons. Nothing but superior firepower, and a lot of it, could best them in a fight.

Armus would have
Colossus
,
Encroach
,
Amazon
,
Spartan
,
Gallant
,
Indomitable
,
Glorious
, and
Magnificent
. Jane Geary would have
Dreadnaught
,
Dependable
,
Conqueror
,
Warspite
,
Vengeance
,
Revenge
,
Guardian
,
Fearless
,
Resolution
, and
Redoubtable
.

The images of the two battleship commanders disappeared. Geary called Carabali. “Are your people ready to go, General?”

Carabali saluted formally. “Yes, Admiral. Twenty-nine Marines, and one fleet engineer. Commander Hopper has received a crash course in stealth armor operation and employment, as well as planetary infiltration, and has received emergency certification as qualified for this action.”

To say the Marine force-recon scouts had been less than thrilled to have a fleet engineer tapped to join their mission would have been seriously downplaying their reaction. Geary could have sworn he heard their chorus of protests even across the empty space separating ships. But the Marines had been forced to acknowledge that none of their personnel had a fraction of Hopper’s expertise and experience with the sort of challenge the trigger would pose, and she had completed the necessary simulator work.

“Launch your people on schedule,” Geary ordered.

He sat back, trying to relax, studying his display. The globe of the inhabited world slowly grew closer. The fleet had drastically scaled back its speed again for this operation and to achieve a stable orbit about the planet. That would give the Marines a little less than two hours after launch to reach the surface, reach their objective, infiltrate it, and seize control of the trigger before the fleet made its second orbital pass directly above the Syndic version of a Continental Shotgun.

“Tanya, I want you to be ready.”

Desjani perked up and looked at him. “For what?”

“If necessary, or if a good opportunity offers, I’m going to set loose the battle cruisers by divisions to chase off or chase down those Syndic warships that have been hounding us.”

“That just leaves escorts and the four battleships tied to
Invincible
to protect the assault transports and auxiliaries,” she pointed out.

“It will depend on the situation,” Geary said. “And I’ll keep
Adroit
within the formation as a last-ditch defense, too. Just be ready to go all out if I give the order.”

Desjani grinned like a wolf. “I’m always ready to do that. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Geary smiled back, then called Captain Tulev on
Leviathan
, Captain Badaya on
Illustrious
, and Captain Duellos on
Inspire
to pass on the same heads-up.

The four Syndic warship groups had come within several light-seconds, teasing the Alliance warships and forcing the Alliance fleet to remain in a tight defensive formation. Geary smiled as he watched them.
It won’t be too long before you have to react to us. Then we may finally get a chance to grapple with you.

A soft alert tone notified Geary that the Marine scouts were launching from some of the assault transports, using special launch tubes that ejected them without using any energy or propellant that would alert watching Syndics that anything had happened.

He gazed at the planet turning below the fleet, the north pole currently behind the fleet to the right, and the south pole ahead to the left. The city holding the Syndic command and control center, and the site of the trigger, was off below and to Geary’s right. Just coming into view again on the globe’s horizon was the prison-camp location slightly to Geary’s left. On the planet’s surface, the trigger site and the prison camp were far apart. From this high, they could both be seen at once.

The Marines were dropping toward that surface now, in suits equipped to slow and conceal their descent while preventing detection by any available sensor. The suits weren’t foolproof. Good enough sensors focused on the right spots at the right times would pick up indications that something unusual was going on. But right now every available Syndic sensor and set of eyeballs would be focused on the Alliance fleet as it headed for the vicinity of the prison camp and began launching shuttles.

What would it be like for the Marines? Falling for kilometers toward the planet, the land growing in size beneath them, knowing that hostile eyes, ears, and weapons were on the lookout for intruders. The inside of the armor becoming uncomfortably hot as the suits absorbed heat they could not radiate without betraying the location of the wearer. Heavily armored and armed Marines planning to hit dirt after a kilometers-long fall in such a gentle way that even seismic sensors would not spot anything untoward.

And Commander Hopper among them, doing something she had never trained for except in a few hasty simulator sessions.

He couldn’t activate links to see through the eyes of the Marines. Not this time. The scouts would maintain silence except for occasional low-power microburst transmissions among their own force.

“All shuttles launched,” Lieutenant Castries said.

Geary nodded. “Very well.” He hoped his voice sounded steady, in contrast to the tightness strumming through his nerves.

Eighty shuttles fell toward the planet, their descents graceful and oddly like the birds they were nicknamed for. Unlike the Marine scouts, these shuttles carried only standard detection-avoidance gear, and were visible to a variety of sensors.

Geary’s eyes went back to the four groups of Syndic warships. Still close, still not getting closer. “That should have been a hint for us the first time. Why didn’t those four groups of ships try to hit the shuttles or at least disrupt their movement? Because they wanted to make sure we didn’t halt the recovery or break up the fleet to chase them.”

“Uh-huh,” Desjani said.

“I can’t even imagine going on an operation like those Marine scouts. The trip down, the attempts to avoid detection while walking among alert enemy sentries, everything.” Geary knew he was talking too much, but it helped relax his nerves as he waited. “I don’t know how they do it.”

Desjani glanced at him. “They do it because they’re crazy. All Marines are crazy. Force-recon Marines are even crazier than other Marines.”

“How do you know so much about different kinds of Marines?”

She looked back at her display. “There are parts of my dating history that you probably don’t want to know about.”

“You’re . . . probably right.”

He was saved from further comment by a call from intelligence. “Admiral,” Lieutenant Iger’s image reported, “the drones we have on the planet are spotting an unusual level of activity at and around the trigger location.”

Trying not to let that news rattle him, Geary looked at the images Iger was forwarding. “Is this some sort of alert? Extra security?”
If the Syndics have picked up the Marines coming in . . .

“No, sir. As far as we can tell, it’s just extra traffic into and out of the trigger location. They’re definitely gearing up for something, but there’s not increased security activity. If anything, the sentries are being distracted by checking the visitors in and out.”

In a normal operation, that information and those images would be forwarded to the Marines. But not in a stealth op. That kind of comm linkage would all too easily betray the presence of the Marines. “Make sure General Carabali sees these images.”

“Yes, sir. The Marines should be on the ground now, so the lack of reaction by the Syndics is a good sign.”

Iger’s image had no sooner vanished than Rione’s image appeared. “I’ve heard from CEO Gawzi again. An explicit warning that if we do not go through with the pickup this time, there are no guarantees for the safety of the prisoners. That confirms how badly the Syndics want us to go through with this. The fact that it wasn’t CEO Gawzi speaking to me, but a digital avatar instead, confirms that the Syndic internal-security forces are calling all the shots now.”

“How certain are you that it was an avatar?” Geary asked.

“Completely certain.”

He didn’t question her assessment any further. Machines could be easily fooled by digital avatars, but people rarely were. No matter how perfect the illusion, people sensed something that couldn’t be detected by equipment. He had read speculation once that this skill had developed after the creation of nearly perfect digital-avatar technology, but no one really knew if that was true or if humans had always been able to feel the difference between the fake and the real.

“Gawzi may well be dead,” Rione continued. “Her level of nervousness in our last few conversations told me that she was very unhappy with the Syndic plan here. Maybe she attempted something to stop the plan. Maybe she was blocked, and the extreme horror of the information she could not divulge caused her to lose her sanity in fairly short order.”

Geary felt an unexpected stab of sympathy for the elderly Syndic CEO. Perhaps she had cared about the people in this star system, cared about them the same way that the manager at the facility near the gas giant cared. But she had been able to do nothing to help them, nothing to prevent tragedy. She had spent her life supporting a system which in the end had repaid her with callously efficient betrayal. Maybe she deserved such a fate for a lifetime of work in support of a system she must have known was capable of such deeds. But perhaps she hadn’t had any choice, and had done all she could to protect those under her.
I don’t know. It’s not my place to judge her. If she’s already dead, that judgment is being rendered by those far wiser than I’ll ever be. My job is to make sure the Syndic plans fail.
“Thank you for the update. The Marines should be on the surface. Keep your fingers crossed. They are running incredible risks.”

She nodded slowly. “They will have my prayers. As does everyone else in this fleet. Is it not amazing, Admiral Geary, what remarkable efforts some will go to in order to save the lives of their fellow humans, and what remarkable efforts others will go to in order to take the lives of their fellow humans?”

He was still fumbling for some kind of reply when Rione’s image disappeared. “Tanya, I was wondering at one point how to explain what’s going on to the Dancers. Now I’m wondering how to explain it at all.”

Desjani lowered a furious brow at him. “I should never let you talk to that woman.”

“She’s an emissary of the Alliance government!”

“And I’m . . . the commanding officer of your flagship! The first wave of shuttles is hitting dirt.”

The Marines would not need his personal oversight of what was becoming a routine for them, recovering Alliance prisoners under nonpermissive conditions. He could have tapped into the Marine command and control net, seeing events on the ground in the prison camp, but not this time.
General Carabali will notify me if anything goes wrong on the Marine end, and the watch-standers here on
Dauntless
will tell me if anything happens to the shuttles.

Instead of focusing on that, Geary looked to other parts of his display. The four groups of Syndic warships had not yet moved. They shouldn’t move until it became apparent that the Alliance fleet was not playing the game as the Syndics intended, but those warships remained an unpredictable element. If they started moving before any other signs of problems below, it would be a sign that the Alliance plan was in trouble.

The Marine plan allowed half an hour for the scouts to assemble at the trigger location and infiltrate close to the entrance, and another twenty minutes to actually penetrate the installation and gain control of the trigger just before the fleet approached the region above the prison camp on its second orbital pass. If anything went wrong, Lieutenant Iger’s drones would spot the uproar before the Marines could report in.