Jack Campbell: Relentless

“Certainly, Captain Desjani.” He wrenched his eyes away from her smile and his mind away from wondering how her lips would feel against his. That wouldn’t happen, not while he was in command of the fleet, not while this war lasted. She’d earned his respect countless times, and even if he’d failed to maintain proper professional feelings toward her, he could still be sure to grant her that respect in both public and private. So Geary simply stood up and returned her salute. But she paused just before leaving and looked back at him. “I hope you don’t take adversely anything I said, sir. I did feel obligated to speak honestly and forcefully.”

“Thank you, Captain Desjani. I hope you will continue to speak with as much honesty and force whenever you feel it is appropriate, and I will listen when you do so. I’ve been told that I am one of the more reasonable sons of bitches in the fleet.”

“That’s probably true, sir, but don’t let it go to your head.”

He managed not to laugh until the hatch had closed behind her.

The fleet conference room on Dauntless wasn’t all that large, and the table and seats it boasted could have held no more than a dozen people at the most. But the virtual conferencing software made the apparent size of the table and the compartment expand to accommodate the numbers of people in any meeting, so that Geary stood at the head of an extremely long table with hundreds of officers seated around it. Aside from him, Captain Desjani, and Co-President Rione, none of the other individuals were actually physically present. As much as he disliked fleet conferences, Geary had to admit the software was an impressive piece of work, and the fact that most of those “present” weren’t actually here had kept anyone from going for anyone else’s throat during arguments in the past. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem much chance of open argument this time. As much as he had disliked bandying words with the likes of Numos or Casia or Midea, at least the straightforward hostility of their attitudes had made it clear who needed to be watched. He would have welcomed that now, as a chance to identify the remaining opposition to his command of the fleet. But whoever was driving that effort seemed to have expended most of their human shields yet was remaining frustratingly hidden. If the only threat they posed was to his command, he wouldn’t have expended much worry on them since after the second battle of Lakota his standing with the sailors and most of the officers of the fleet was as firm as hull armor, but his hidden foes had repeatedly demonstrated a willingness to endanger some of the fleet’s warships in their attempts to strike at Geary. The game had shifted from trying to topple him to trying to assassinate him and his firmest supporters, which, in practice, meant trying to destroy the ships they were on.

Geary called up the star display over the conference table. “My apologies for the delay in communicating my intentions. We’ve stripped Dilawa of everything of use to us. I’ve already ordered the fleet onto a course for the jump point for Heradao.” On the display, the projected path of the Alliance fleet curved in a graceful arc through the empty reaches of Dilawa Star System. “We hope to find that the Alliance prisoners of war are still at Heradao, in which case we’ll liberate them.”

“We need to liberate more food along with them,” Captain Tulev stated bluntly. “What we have is inadequate.”

Commander Neeson of Implacable shook his head. “We can’t loot enough unless we occupy a planetary-surface warehouse district, and that’s beyond our Marines’ capability. We also can’t trust any food the Syndics give us under duress, and we can’t test it all thoroughly.”

“Two thousand prisoners at Heradao according to the old records we have,” Tulev pointed out. “We must liberate them, I agree. Physically, we can hold them. Some of our ships are still slightly understrength from battle casualties even with the survivors we’ve picked up from ships we’ve lost, and the others can take on extra personnel for the time needed to reach Alliance space. But the food situation is growing critical.”

“You mean like the fuel situation?” Captain Armus of the Colossus grumbled. Geary held up a hand to quiet everyone. “We’re short on everything. However the logistics systems project that even if we pick up two thousand liberated Alliance personnel, we’ll be able to make Alliance space without running out of food, though rations will have to be reduced again.”

“And if we’re delayed?” Tulev asked.

“We can’t afford any more delays,” Geary replied. “Fuel and food are at critical levels, and the only source we can count on for resupply is back in Alliance home space. We’re going to keep moving and fighting. We’ve had to be very concerned with keeping the Syndics guessing as to our route home, but from this point on we’re heading straight there.” Relieved smiles appeared on many faces as Geary shifted the scale on the star display, but then the smiles faded on most faces. Armus put the worry into words. “A direct route increases the chances of running into Syndic blocking forces. How can we fight through those forces if we’re low on fuel?”

Pray to our ancestors for a miracle occurred to Geary as an answer, but hoping for divine intervention wasn’t a sound basis for tactical planning. “By fighting as smart as we can to minimize fuel-cell usage. If necessary, we’ll try to blow past the blocking forces and leave them in our wake.” That intelligent and reasonable idea drew grimaces around the table. It was too contrary to the primitive concepts of honor and courage that had controlled the fleet’s actions for at least a generation and led to horrendous losses as well. But Geary had gained enough experience with those attitudes to know how to satisfy them. “We can always come back and destroy those Syndic ships once we’ve re-fueled, or leave them for the Alliance warships that have been defending our home space in our absence and deserve an opportunity to get in their own blows.”

The grimaces lightened, and some smiles reappeared as Geary continued.

“There’s a strong possibility that whatever the Syndics have left to try to stop us will be waiting at Heradao, because it’s a straight shot back home for us. If a Syndic flotilla is at Heradao, we will fight them there because our fuel stocks will be as good as they’re going to be until we get home.”

He glanced at Captain Desjani, who betrayed no sign that Geary was practically quoting her own advice. I can’t afford to feed rumors of favoritism toward Desjani now, but once this is over, I’ll make sure that she and people like her get the credit they deserve. Outwardly, Geary just indicated a bright white star. “After Heradao we’ll go on to Padronis, and from there to Atalia.”

A sigh seemed to run around the table as Captain Badaya of Illustrious spoke the thoughts probably on everyone’s mind. “And Atalia is within jump range of Varandal.”

“Right,” Geary agreed. “Alliance home space, and the biggest concentration of fleet support facilities in the region. Once we reach Varandal, we can get all of the supplies we need.”

“Boldness is certainly called for,” Captain Caligo of the battle cruiser Brilliant agreed. “The Alliance needs us and every Alliance prisoner of war we can liberate from within Syndic territory.”

That unobjectionable statement drew nods of agreement as Geary took a moment to look at Caligo. He’d been mostly silent at these meetings until recently, but had begun speaking up. Not that Caligo had yet said anything exceptional, just things that found concurrence with almost everyone.