Right, Geary. You’re such a good judge of women that she had to practically drag you into bed before you got the hint.
Not for the first time, Geary found himself baffled by what Rione was thinking and looked forward to the relative simplicity of dealing with an enemy he knew was just trying to kill him.
Captain Desjani yawned and nodded in greeting as Geary entered the bridge of the Dauntless. “You spoke with Colonel Carabali?”
“Yeah,” Geary replied, taking his seat and calling up the display. He studied it for a moment. He had been either sleeping or otherwise engaged with Co-President Rione for about five hours. Against the scale of a star system, not a lot changed in that amount of time. But Formation Bravo was bearing down steadily on the fourth world and the supplies it offered. Courageous was just over thirty light-minutes away from Dauntless now, so any conversation with Captain Duellos would be a drawn-out affair.
Geary organized his thoughts, then keyed the personal command circuit. “Captain Duellos, this is Captain Geary. There’s some concern here about the dangers posed by bringing your ships close to a heavily built-up world that might still have some functioning antiorbital systems under that dust blocking our views of the surface. Please deploy the Marine atmospheric recce drones on your ships to search beneath the high dust layer for any signs of a threat. Ships should be kept out of low orbit. Maintain a tight scan of the upper atmosphere for any signs of Syndic drones or other reconnaissance activity that might provide targeting information to weapons on the surface. Please employ whatever other safety measures you feel are prudent and keep me advised.” Should I add anything else? No. Duellos knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t need me preaching to the choir about the need to be careful and avoid losing ships. “Geary, out.”
He slumped back, rubbing his forehead. I forgot when I broke up the fleet that it would mean I’d lose real-time communications with most of my ships. At least I don’t need to worry about Numos messing something up. Unfortunately, that small comforting thought reminded Geary of the almost forty ships that had followed Falco and might already have been destroyed.
Desjani shook her head. “With your leave, Captain Geary, I’m going to go below and grab a couple of hours of real sleep. I’m wasting my time up here right now.”
Geary automatically checked the display again. Formation Delta, once again formed around Dauntless, was close to a day away from the facilities orbiting the third planet, which were its objective. There wasn’t a trace of Syndic shipping under way in the system, except for the battered Force Alpha, which remained out between the orbits of the seventh and eighth planets, maintaining a very large distance between itself and the closest Alliance ships in Task Force Furious. Geary wondered how long it would be before the Syndic commander realized that it wouldn’t be a career-enhancing move to survive with the rest of his or her flotilla intact while the Alliance leisurely trashed the star system. “Why not make it more than a couple of hours? I’ll stay up here for a while.”
Desjani grinned. “Thanks, but even with you on the bridge, I’m still the captain of this ship.”
“How about if I order you to get at least four hours’ rest?”
“I guess I can’t refuse a direct order,” Desjani admitted with clear reluctance. She stood, stretching again. “You seem to be feeling better, sir, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Rest helps.” Co-President Rione chose that moment to arrive on the bridge. She nodded coolly to Desjani and then inclined her head in another wordless greeting to Geary. He nodded back, more pleasantly than he had been greeting Rione for some weeks. As Geary turned back, he caught Desjani’s eyebrow raised as she looked from Geary to Rione. Realizing Geary was watching, Desjani rapidly hauled down the eyebrow, assuming a noncommittal look. Desjani can tell? How could it be that obvious? Geary wondered. We didn’t even say anything.
Captain Desjani faced her senior watch-stander. “I’ll be in my cabin. Resting.” On the last word, she gave a side-long glance to Geary and one corner of her mouth twitched as an effort to suppress a smile didn’t quite succeed. As Desjani left, she paused by Rione. “It’s a pleasure to have you aboard, Madam Co-President.” As far as Geary could remember, Desjani had never offered that kind of sentiment to Rione before.
Geary felt a headache starting again, even though Rione looked amused as Desjani left. “How?” he asked Rione in a very low voice.
“I’m afraid that information is on a need-to-know basis,” she informed Geary in a matter-of-fact voice.
“In other words, it’s a woman thing.”
“If you care to think of it that way.”
He leaned back, indicating the display. “What do you think? Colonel Carabali was concerned about Formation Bravo getting close to the fourth planet. Does anything else set off alarms for you?”
“I’ll take a look. Surely you don’t think I have the skill to make a military assessment?” Rione asked.
“No. But sometimes someone with military training can overlook even something obvious to a layperson. I notice you don’t seem all that worried. Whenever we’re in Syndic systems I’m used to having you toss out warnings about everything that can go wrong.”
“And you like that?”
“Well, I’m used to it, anyway. Besides, you’ve often been right.”
Rione gave him a very small smile, then nodded and bent to study the display before her seat. Geary checked the time. Twenty more minutes before Duellos would even get his message. Probably an hour, at least, before an answer came.
Who could have guessed war could be boring? Right up until it starting scaring the bloody hell out of you.
Duellos rogered up for Geary’s instructions, adding that he would keep his ships positioned with Syndic orbital facilities between them and the surface of the planet as much as possible. Presumably even the Syndics wouldn’t deliberately shoot through their own installations.
The formation of which Dauntless was a part coasted past the orbit of the fourth world, heading farther inward toward the third world. At their closest point, Geary was within four light minutes of Formation Bravo. On his display, small images reflected relayed data from the Marine recce drones over the fourth world, their transmissions occasionally fuzzed by static from the dust filling the upper atmosphere of the planet.
On visual, the images revealed what seemed a pleasant enough world, with large cities, abundant towns, and big areas of wilderness marred by occasional scars of mining or other resource extraction. It seemed a nearly deserted world from the images, though, with streets and roads almost empty of people and vehicles. The few vehicles sighted were clearly official, often traveling in convoys. The rest of the population was apparently hunkered down, though hiding in buildings or cellars or even shelters wouldn’t offer any protection if the Alliance decided to bombard the planet in earnest.
Here and there, craters marked the sites of impacts from the kinetic bombardment. All of the images from the parts of the planet receiving sunlight had a grayish, washed-out quality, as if seen on a very cloudy day, because of all of the dust in the upper atmosphere. The night-side images were pitch-black, the dust blocking any starlight from reaching the surface.
By tapping controls Geary could make the images shift from visual to infrared, to radar of various kinds including ground-penetrating, to scans of the electromagnetic spectrum. He could see other functions available but left them alone, afraid that he would inadvertently order one of the drones to do something. Occasionally a drone would report coming under fire as the Syndics tried to shoot it down, but they made difficult targets at the best of times, and with the dust cover in the upper atmosphere to duck into for extra cover when necessary, the drones were even harder to hit.