Jack Campbell - Dauntless

She gave a quick command to one of her subordinates, then nodded to Geary. “Yes. The basic weapon concepts haven’t changed in most cases, even though the weapon capabilities have become a lot better. We still use hell-lances as the primary weapon, but their charged particle ‘spears’ are faster, longer-ranged, carry more energy, and the launchers can recharge much quicker than in your last ship.”

“And you’re still using grapeshot.”

“Of course. It’s a simple and deadly weapon. The railguns can impart higher velocities to the rounds than in your day, and targeting system improvements let us use grapeshot at slightly greater ranges, but it’s still a fairly close-in weapon because once the patterns disperse too widely, the odds of overwhelming or significantly weakening enemy defenses are too small.”

“What’s a specter?”

“Basically a meaner version of the missiles you were used to.”

“Wraiths, you mean?”

“Yes. Specters are autonomous missiles like the old wraiths, but they’re more maneuverable, carry multiple warheads to give them a better chance of punching through shields and into an enemy’s hull, and have better survival chances against enemy active defenses.” She gestured outward. “Defenses have improved, too. Shields are stronger, rebuild and adjust coverage faster, and the ships’ physical hulls have some better survival characteristics.”

There hadn’t been a radical change in weaponry, then. The ships still used missiles at longer ranges, augmented by hell-lances and grapeshot when they got close enough. Heavier weapons but deployed against stronger defenses. “What’s this—”

“Captain?” Both Geary and Desjani jerked their heads around to look at the sailor who’d spoken, Geary taking a moment to realize the call hadn’t been directed at him. The sailor in turn seemed uncertain who to report to. “The Syndic fleet is broadcasting a demand for individual ships to announce their surrender immediately.”

Geary fought down an urge to grimace, all too aware everyone was looking at him for his reaction. Rione’s efforts to stall had obviously hit their limit. He wondered whether simply remaining silent would cause the Syndics to waste time repeating their demands. “Captain Desjani, I’d appreciate your estimate of what will happen if we don’t respond.”

She hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “I can’t be sure what the Syndics will do, but if we don’t reply, there’s a chance some of our ships may respond on their own. And if some begin surrendering—”

“Damn.” As much as he hated to admit it, Geary knew from what he’d seen in the conference room that she was right. He couldn’t stay silent and risk that outcome. “I want to talk to the Syndic commander.”

“Private channel, sir?”

“No. I want everyone to see and hear us.”

“We’ll send a hail to the Syndic flagship. It’s a few light-minutes away.” Desjani pointed toward the communications watch, conveying her order with the motion. That sailor nodded and began working his controls. Several minutes passed, then the sailor gestured forward. Geary followed the gesture with his eyes and saw a new display spring to life. Centered in it was the familiar image of the Syndic CEO who’d announced the murder of Admiral Bloch and his fellow Alliance senior officers. “Dauntless?” the CEO asked. “You were Bloch’s flagship, were you not? Are you capable of surrendering the fleet en masse, then?”

Geary straightened, trying to keep his temper down, but not bothering to hide his own feelings. “You’re not talking to the captain of the Dauntless . You’re talking to the fleet commander.”

The Syndic flagship was slightly behind the lead elements of the enemy fleet, placing it close to three light-minutes away from Dauntless . Geary kept his answer as short as he dared, then waited for his reply to reach the other ship, knowing the built-in time lag would automatically help buy more time for his fleet.

Three minutes from Dauntless to the enemy flagship, then three minutes back. At about six minutes after Geary’s reply, he finally saw the Syndic CEO’s eyes shift in annoyance. “I don’t care what you style yourself. I’ve been very generous out of humanitarian concern for the wellbeing of fellow humans, but your time is up. Broadcast surrender, drop your shields, and deactivate all offensive and defensive weapon systems immediately or you will be destroyed.”

Geary shook his head for emphasis. “No.”

Six minutes later, he saw the Syndic fleet CEO frown in response to the brief reply. “Very well. Dauntless will be destroyed. Now if you don’t mind, I’m sure other ships will be trying to surrender.”

“The ships of this fleet are under my command, not yours, and they will fight under my command,” Geary stated, trying to put all the ice that had once filled him into his tone. He knew his reply would be heard by his own ships far quicker than it would be received by the much farther-away enemy flagship, and would hopefully forestall any individual Alliance commanders still tempted to trust their fate to surrender. “The Alliance fleet is not beaten and will not surrender.” He hoped the words conveyed a confidence he didn’t really feel. But as long as he seemed confident on the outside, his own ships and the Syndics wouldn’t know what was going on inside Geary.

The long-distance conversation had been continuing for almost twenty minutes when Geary saw the Syndic CEO looking off to the side, apparently checking one of his own displays. “It seems I’ll have to have my intelligence staff reeducated. I find no match for you in my database of Alliance officers.”

“You’re not looking in the right place,” Geary advised, letting a small humorless smile show. “Try looking under deceased officers. As far back as your files go.”

Another six minutes. “You’re dead, then?” The CEO shook his head. “A stupid ploy and waste of time. You’re not listed. A search through the entire database, including every Alliance officer known to have served in this war doesn’t produce any matches at—” The Syndic CEO stopped speaking, his eyes still locked on whatever his display was showing.

Geary smiled again, this time baring his teeth. “I assume you found me. About a century ago.”

By the time Syndic CEO’s latest reply came in, his face had reddened with anger. “A simple, foolish trick. If you think I’d be stupid enough to believe that, you are sadly mistaken. You’re simply stalling for time. I will not tolerate further delays.”

“I don’t care what you believe.” Geary let the next words come out slowly, all too aware that the rest of his own fleet was listening in on this conversation. “I am Captain John Geary. I am now in command of the Alliance fleet. You’re dealing with me now. These are my ships. Back off.”

The CEO was glowering when his latest message arrived. “Even if you were that person, there’s nothing you can do. You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and cut off. You have no options but surrender! I repeat, I will tolerate no more delays. My patience is at an end.”

Geary tried his best to look unimpressed. “I beat the Syndics once, and I can beat them again.” He knew what he had to say. He was still speaking as much to his own ships as to the Syndic CEO. Maybe he’d give the Syndic pause, and hopefully he’d give his fleet some more confidence. Geary actually found himself enjoying this a little. Being Black Jack Geary to Alliance sailors had been a constant trial, but using his legend to rattle the Syndics was actually a bit of fun. “There’s always something a good commander can do. I repeat, this fleet isn’t beaten. If you’re foolish enough to try attacking, you’ll find we’re ready to kick you halfway to the next star system.” He knew that wasn’t true, but halfhearted bluffs weren’t going to gain him anything at this point.