“It’s just a matter of whether you’re ordering what to do based on what the systems say, or if they’re ordering you what to do whether you like it or not,” Desjani said. “There isn’t anything complicated about that.”
“There shouldn’t be,” Geary agreed.
The survivor recovery completed, Geary ordered his ships back into their formations, leaving the discarded escape pods drifting in space, and directed every warship to head back toward the government facility.
The dark ships were still swooping down on Invincible. The immense alien superbattleship was moving slowly away from the pursuing dark ships, plodding along under the thrust of the rows of fleet tugs that provided only a fraction of the power that Invincible’s main propulsion units once employed.
Geary felt an odd sense of sorrow at the sight. Not the huge regret that the knowledge represented by the captured alien ship would be lost but sadness at watching the massive ship sacrifice itself to give the Alliance fleet a little time that might make all the difference in being able to destroy the last dark ship before the last Alliance ship. In its willingness to be destroyed for the sake of the human warships, the alien craft itself felt more human, more a living thing, than the dark ships with their AIs designed to mimic human thought processes.
The ship information graphics on the virtual display next to his command seat were filled with red and yellow markers indicating degrees of damage suffered by his warships, amidst too few greens that indicated ships without significant damage. The diversion provided by Invincible would buy a few hours, but what his fleet needed was six months in a major repair facility with a lot of docks.
The sort of facility, in fact, they had been forced to destroy here.
“We’ve got a little time,” Geary told Desjani. “I’m going to hold a senior officer conference.”
She ensured the privacy fields were activated, then Geary called his top officers, their images in their command seats on the bridges of their ships appearing around him. Captain Duellos. Captain Jane Geary. Captain Badaya. Captain Desjani in person. Captain Armus. The sight of those officers brought back with full force the fact that Captain Tulev should have been among them and was not.
Geary took a second to compose himself, to ensure his voice did not falter, before he spoke. “You all know the situation we are in. I would like to know your thoughts and your recommendations.”
Duellos replied in an uncharacteristically grave voice. “As was recently pointed out by a very fine officer who is no longer among us, we only have one option remaining. Fight to the last.”
“That’s right,” Badaya said. “To the last ship, to the last man or woman. Maybe we can’t wipe out the dark ships completely, but we can ensure that none of their battle cruisers and battleships survive this fight.”
“None of ours will either,” Armus said as if that were a matter not of sorrow but of inevitability. “But no one will be able to say we did not die with honor. No one will be able to accuse us of not doing our duty. We will be welcomed by our ancestors.”
“The last charge of the Gearys,” Jane said with the ghost of a smile. “I never thought I’d be part of Black Jack’s real last stand. It doesn’t feel as bad as I thought it would.”
“No one else has any other options to suggest?” Geary said.
Desjani shrugged. “We can’t wipe out the dark ships without paying a very high price. There are too many of them, they have too much firepower, they can maneuver better than we can, and the AIs running them aren’t your equal, but they are close enough to that given those other advantages the dark ships have.”
“It’s not like we could reposition through the hypernet gate, even if it weren’t blocked,” Badaya pointed out.
After being awakened from a century in survival sleep, it had taken Geary a while to understand why Badaya phrased it that way. After a century of war, with little hope of victory and in the face of ongoing awful losses, the Alliance fleet had clung fiercely to its pride, never talking about retreating but only about repositioning. The Alliance fleet might die fighting, it might “reposition” at other times, but it never “retreated.” Geary realized that that attitude, which these officers had all grown up with, made it easier for them to contemplate a last battle at this moment. As Desjani had reminded him, they had all expected to die long before this.
Duellos nodded in agreement with Badaya. “We can’t let the dark ships have access to the hypernet so they can carry out that Armageddon Option. They won’t leave as long as we’re still here fighting them, so we must stay and fight, even if we didn’t have to.”
“That’s true,” Geary said.
“Although,” Badaya added, “part of me wouldn’t mind leading these human-made monsters to Unity so they could carry out their Armageddon on those who created them.”
“A lot of innocent people would die as well,” Jane Geary said. “Otherwise, I’d agree with you.”
“All right,” Geary said. “We are going to undertake one detour.” He explained about his intentions with Mistral. “If the Marines have found the means to unblock the hypernet gate, we can send Mistral to safety using that, but I’m going to assume we’ll have to try to avoid action until a jump point appears that Mistral can use.”
“There are going to be a lot of unhappy people on Mistral,” Armus observed dourly.
“They have to do their duty, just as we are doing ours,” Desjani said.
“I’m not arguing that. I’m just glad I’m not the commanding officer of Mistral.”
“Thank you,” Geary said. “I am honored to have served with you, and with every man and woman in this fleet. Captain Geary, there is one more issue we should discuss alone.” The images of the other captains vanished, leaving Jane Geary watching him expectantly. She made no comment about Tanya also still being present, for which Geary was grateful. “When Admiral Bloch communicated with us, he claimed to know that your brother Michael was still alive and where he was. He offered to trade that knowledge for our rescuing him from his flagship.”
Jane Geary inhaled sharply, then laughed. “Admiral Bloch would say anything to try to save his life. He’s lying.”
“That’s what I thought,” Geary said. “In any event, it is impossible to get him off the dark battle cruiser that is his flagship. The best that Bloch can hope for is that we knock out but not destroy that dark ship, leaving him a chance to get off it. But we can’t limit our attacks, or risk the lives of our people, to try to save him.”
“I agree. Michael would not want such a deal made in his name.” She looked over at Tanya. “He would be happy to know that the family included a worthy new sister when we fought our last fight.”
“Thank you,” Tanya said.
Jane Geary saluted them both, then her image vanished as well.
Geary took a moment to compose himself, then called General Charban. “You’ll need to tell the Dancers what we’re going to do.” He explained the fleet’s plans, then gestured in the direction of the Dancers, who were once again tagging along close to the Alliance warships. “The Dancers are under no obligation to stay here and fight to the death with us, though we will be immensely grateful for their assistance. Let me know what they are planning on doing.”
“Yes, Admiral. What are our chances, do you think?”