Jack Campbell: The Lost Fleet: Fearless

“The reconnaissance shuttles have detected no signs of nuclear or other weapons of mass destruction at the labor camp site,” Carabali reported. “We’ll conduct another sweep, then land the recon teams.”

“Have you confirmed Alliance prisoners are present in predicted numbers?”

“Looks like it, sir.” Carabali grinned. “From up here they seem pretty happy.”

Geary sat back, smiling himself. He’d encountered a lot of situations since being rescued that he’d never expected, and most of those had been unpleasant. Duty had been a heavy burden. But now there were thousands of people who’d never expected liberation, viewing the shuttles of this fleet overhead, people who might’ve already spent decades as prisoners with no hope of release. This fleet, his fleet, was going to rescue them. It felt good.

If only the Syndics didn’t try anything else. It was still possible for thousands on the verge of being freed to die in that camp.

“Recon shuttles down,” Carabali reported, echoing the information on Geary’s own display, which he’d focused on the camp. “Teams deploying.”

Geary gave in to temptation, calling up one of the recon team officers. A window opened with a view from the officer’s helmet, showing bare dirt and battered structures. The sky was a washed-out pale blue verging on gray, its appearance as cold and drab as life must have been in that labor camp. No Syndic guards were visible, but the Alliance prisoners had formed up into ranks, their officers in front, waiting with anxious and dazed faces as the Marines dashed past them, searching for any signs of danger.

The Marine Geary was monitoring stopped in front of one formation of prisoners, facing the woman standing before them. “Are there any concealed weapons you know of? Any unusual activity?” the Marine demanded.

The woman, well past middle age, thin, her skin almost leathery from long exposure to the environment of Sutrah Five with inadequate protection and probably a prisoner for most of her life, spoke with careful precision. “No, Lieutenant. We were confined to quarters and couldn’t observe outside activity last night, but we heard the guards leave in a hurry before dawn. We’ve searched every part of the camp and found no weapons. The camp data office is in that building.” She pointed.

The Marine paused for a moment to salute. “Thank you, Commander.”

Geary pulled his attention away from the view, forcing himself to close the window showing that particular Marine’s point of view. He had a duty to keep his eye on everything going on around the fleet.

“It looks quiet,” Desjani remarked. “The only activity we can detect on the planet are the columns of evacuees heading away from target sites. There’s a moon fragment coming in about three hundred klicks west of the labor camp,” she added, pointing to the display. “It’ll mess up everything around the impact site, but the camp will just hear a distant bang and feel a breeze.”

Geary read the data for the impact. “And maybe feel the ground tremor. Every time we’ve thought things looked quiet in this system it’s just meant the Syndics were planning something else nasty. What could we be missing this time?”

Desjani pursed her lips in thought. “The Marines are checking the prisoners for exposure to delayed-effect biological agents. The prisoners should’ve spotted anything buried in the camp. The only Syndic ships in the system besides a few cargo ships are the three sets of HuKs we’ve been tracking since arrival, none of which are within a light-hour of us. I wouldn’t put it past them to blow the planet to hell in hopes of getting more of us, but there’s no weapon that could do that.”

A window popped up before Geary, and Colonel Carabali’s image saluted. “I’m sending in the main landing force, Captain Geary. No threats detected.” On his display, Geary could see the bulk of the shuttles coming in to land, many just outside the boundaries of the camp to find sufficient room. Marines spilled out, looking reassuringly efficient and deadly in their battle armor.

Yet Geary found the sight worrisome. Practically every Marine in the fleet was down there. If something happened to them, he’d have lost a very important combat capability, as well as the most reliably obedient component of his fleet. A moment later he mentally lashed himself for thinking of the losses in those terms instead of as the deaths of a lot of good men and women.

Co-President Rione seemed to share Geary’s disquiet. “This seems too easy after all the other mischief the Syndics have pulled in this system.”

Geary nodded. “But there’s nothing in the camp. The prisoners said they’d searched it, and they’d know if there was anything unusual.”

Colonel Carabali reported in again. “We’ve taken the data building and are checking the files now. All prisoners had implants linked to a tracking system and a virtual wall around the camp to keep them from going anywhere they weren’t allowed. We’re in the process of deactivating the implants and the virtual wall.”

“Good.” Geary’s eyes went back to the display. “Once the virtual wall is down, the prisoners will be able to leave the camp boundaries to board those shuttles,” he remarked to Desjani.

“Damn!”

Geary spun in his seat, shocked by the sudden and un-characteristic outburst from Rione. She was pointing at the displays. “ Outside the camp, Captain Geary. You’re all looking at threats inside the camp, but most of your shuttles are grounded outside the camp!”

Geary felt a hard lump in his gut as he realized what Rione was saying. He punched the controls to call Carabali. “Outside the camp perimeter, Colonel! The prisoners couldn’t go there, which means they couldn’t search there. We’ve focused our own search on the camp itself. But a lot of the shuttles are outside the camp, and the prisoners will be brought to them there.”

Carabali gritted her teeth. “Understood.” Geary watched the Marine command and control net light up as orders flew from Colonel Carabali to the rest of the Marines. Units headed out to secure a wide perimeter started backtracking and spreading into search patterns, while some of those inside the camp headed out to search closer in.

“We still should’ve detected nukes,” Desjani stated angrily.

“Yeah,” Geary agreed. “But something else could’ve been buried there.”

“We’ve got delayed action mines,” Carabali reported, her voice cool. “A mix of lofting fragmentation and chemicals. They’re older models but still hard enough to spot that we wouldn’t have seen them if we hadn’t done a special sweep of that area. My mine experts say they’re probably set to blow once they detect enough human presence around them. We’re using high-energy pulses to fry the triggering mechanisms and render them harmless.”

“What about even farther out?” Geary asked.

“We’re sweeping now.” A trace of anger entered the calm professionalism of Carabali’s tone. “I’ll provide a full report of my failure to anticipate and identify the threat so you can take whatever disciplinary action you deem appropriate, sir.”

Geary couldn’t suppress a sigh, catching a glimpse as he did so of the now-impassive face of Co-President Rione. “Thank you, Colonel, but we missed it, too, and share in any blame. You can thank Co-President Rione for figuring it out in time.”

Carabali’s voice held a tinge of self-mocking humor this time. “Please pass my respects and thanks to the co-president, sir.”

Geary turned to look at Rione. “Did you hear that?”

Rione inclined her head in acknowledgment. “I’m used to examining the possible meanings of words. There are times even the devious mind of a politician can be useful, aren’t there, Captain Geary?”