Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
Ace Books by Jack Campbell
THE LOST FLEET: DAUNTLESS
THE LOST FLEET: FEARLESS
THE LOST FLEET: COURAGEOUS
THE LOST FLEET: VALIANT
THE LOST FLEET: RELENTLESS
THE LOST FLEET: VICTORIOUS
THE LOST FLEET: BEYOND THE FRONTIER: DREADNAUGHT
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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This is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2011 by John G. Hemry.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Campbell, Jack.
The lost fleet : beyond the frontier : dreadnaught / Jack Campbell. p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-51403-0
1. Space ships—Fiction. 2. Imaginary wars and battles—Fiction. I. Title. II. Title: Dreadnaught. PS3553.A4637L’.6—dc22
2010054262
http://us.penguingroup.com
To my uncle Oliver Holmes “Rick” Ulrickson, who sailed for his last home port in May 2010. The youngest in my mother’s family, with six older sisters, he somehow survived childhood to serve in the Navy, work in aerospace (including NASA’s Johnson Space Center Mission Control tracking system), and mentor many students at Texas Christian University. He was an amateur historian, he read a lot, he sang, and he was active in the civil rights movement in the sixties and seventies, but his proudest achievement in life was undoubtedly his family. You’ll be missed, Uncle Oliver.
For S., as always.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I remain indebted to my agent, Joshua Bilmes, for his ever-inspired suggestions and assistance, and to my editor, Anne Sowards, for her support and editing. Thanks also to Catherine Asaro, Robert Chase, J. G. (Huck) Huckenpohler, Simcha Kuritzky, Michael La Violette, Aly Parsons, Bud Sparhawk, and Constance A. Warner for their suggestions, comments, and recommendations. Thanks also to Charles Petit for his suggestions about space engagements.
THE FIRST FLEET OF THE ALLIANCE
ADMIRAL JOHN GEARY, COMMANDING
SECOND BATTLESHIP DIVISION
Gallant
Indomitable
Glorious
Magnificent
FOURTH BATTLESHIP DIVISION
Warspite
Vengeance
Revenge
Guardian
SEVENTH BATTLESHIP DIVISION
Colossus
Encroach
Amazon
Spartan
FIRST BATTLE CRUISER DIVISION
Inspire
Formidable
Brilliant
Implacable
FOURTH BATTLE CRUISER DIVISION
Dauntless (flagship)
Daring
Victorious
Intemperate
SIXTH BATTLE CRUISER DIVISION
Illustrious
Incredible
Invincible
THIRD BATTLESHIP DIVISION
Dreadnaught
Orion
Dependable
Conqueror
FIFTH BATTLESHIP DIVISION
Fearless
Resolution
Redoubtable
EIGHTH BATTLESHIP DIVISION
Relentless
Reprisal
Superb
Splendid
SECOND BATTLE CRUISER DIVISION
Leviathan
Dragon
Steadfast
Valiant
FIFTH BATTLE CRUISER DIVISION
Adroit
FIFTH ASSAULT TRANSPORT DIVISION
Tsunami
Typhoon
Mistral
Haboob
FIRST AUXILIARIES DIVISION
Titan
Tanuki
Kupua
Domovoi
SECOND AUXILIARIES DIVISION
Witch
Jinn
Alchemist
Cyclops
THIRTY-ONE HEAVY CRUISERS IN SIX DIVISIONS
First Heavy Cruiser Division
Third Heavy Cruiser Division Fourth Heavy Cruiser Division
Fifth Heavy Cruiser Division Eighth Heavy Cruiser Division
Tenth Heavy Cruiser Division
FIFTY-FIVE LIGHT CRUISERS IN TEN SQUADRONS
First Light Cruiser Squadron
Second Light Cruiser Squadron
Third Light Cruiser Squadron
Fifth Light Cruiser Squadron
Sixth Light Cruiser Squadron
Eighth Light Cruiser Squadron
Ninth Light Cruiser Squadron
Tenth Light Cruiser Squadron
Eleventh Light Cruiser Squadron
Fourteenth Light Cruiser Squadron
ONE HUNDRED SIXTY DESTROYERS IN EIGHTEEN SQUADRONS
First Destroyer Squadron
Second Destroyer Squadron
Third Destroyer Squadron
Fourth Destroyer Squadron
Sixth Destroyer Squadron
Seventh Destroyer Squadron
Ninth Destroyer Squadron
Tenth Destroyer Squadron
Twelfth Destroyer Squadron
Fourteenth Destroyer Squadron
Sixteenth Destroyer Squadron
Seventeenth Destroyer Squadron
Twentieth Destroyer Squadron
Twenty-first Destroyer Squadron
Twenty-third Destroyer Squadron
Twenty-seventh Destroyer Squadron
Twenty-eighth Destroyer Squadron
Thirty
-second Destroyer Squadron
FIRST FLEET MARINE FORCE
Major General Carabali, commanding
3,000 Marines on assault transports and divided into detachments on battle cruisers and battleships
ONE
INNUMERABLE stars like brilliant diamonds carelessly flung across endless space shone upon the hull of the civilian passenger ship. Bright, but cold, their light far too distant to give any warmth, the stars formed constellations in which humans tried to find meaning. Admiral John “Black Jack” Geary, watching those stars, thought about the fact that the constellations changed depending on where you were, but the meaning of it all somehow didn’t change.
He just wished he knew what that meaning of it all was. He had lost one battle, long ago, and discovered much later that the loss had meant something much different than he had imagined. Lately, he had won much bigger battles; but what those meant, what his future would be from this day forward, remained as uncertain as whatever messages the stars wrote across the sky.
The passenger ship had exited the hypernet gate at the particular star known to humans as Varandal. Over the dozen decades since it had been built, the ship had traveled between many stars, and while the stars themselves had burned on unchanging to the naked eye, the ship had felt those years. Men and women had worked to keep its systems functioning and its hull strong, but where the life of stars was measured in billions of years, the life spans of human creations were often less than a century.
This ship was old, moving almost as deftly as ever, but feeling the accumulated stress of years in the materials from which it had been built. It should have been replaced long ago. However, a civilization caught in a seemingly endless war couldn’t afford such luxuries; instead, it diverted those resources to warships to replace countless other warships lost in countless battles.
But on this voyage, now that peace had come a month ago, the crew had spoken of rumors of new ships. No one knew for sure. So far, peace hadn’t brought any major improvements, hadn’t brought money or lives to replace what had been lost in the long war with the Syndicate Worlds. No one even knew exactly what “peace” was. No one living had been alive the last time humanity knew peace, before the Syndics attacked the Alliance a century ago.
No, that wasn’t right. One man still living had been alive then, miraculously surviving a century in survival sleep to lead the fleet to victory, to bring this peace, which somehow felt not all that different from the once-endless war that had finally come to an end. And now he looked at the stars and wondered what new turns awaited his life.
Alliance government warns of threat to all humanity from alien race.
Geary lowered his gaze back to the news headlines scrolling under the star display. “When we left Varandal a few weeks ago, the existence of intelligent aliens was still supposed to be secret.”
Sitting on the bed nearby, Captain Tanya Desjani glanced over at the headline before resuming her scrutiny of a ration bar. “We fought a battle with them. The whole fleet knows they’re out there.” She waved at another display set on one bulkhead, the new ring on one of her fingers flashing a moment as the star sapphire set within it caught the light.
A virtual window, the display showed another view outside their passenger ship; but on this one, the countless stars and the planets illuminated by the radiance of Varandal were dimmed by symbols revealing things invisible to human eyes from that distance. Hundreds of glowing images, representing the warships in the main Alliance fleet, hung apparently unmoving against the backdrop of space even though those warships were in fixed orbits about the star. The scene conveyed two very different sensations, one of them awe at the scale of humanity’s achievements. But against that awe was the reality that, as massive as the fleet’s battleships, battle cruisers, and lesser warships were in human terms, they were tiny when measured against the expanse of the star system and completely insignificant compared to even a small region of the galaxy.
Geary let his eyes linger on the view, realizing how much he had missed those still-unseen, utilitarian, and battle-scarred ships. His own home world had become foreign to him, but for all the changes a harsh century had wrought, the fleet had remained a place in which he felt he belonged. The men and women who had grown up with war and seen all of its terrors, who had been shaped in part by those bloody experiences, still remained sailors like him. Also, the formal end of hostilities with the Syndics should have brought rest from their labors, but this version of peace seemed unlikely to offer that. “I thought we were trying to figure out how to keep from fighting any more battles with the aliens. Why is the government now broadcasting all over the place their existence and the danger they pose?”
“Read some of the other headlines,” Desjani suggested before biting off a piece of the bar. “These Yanika Babiya ration bars aren’t bad. For ration bars, that is.”
Geary focused back on the news, trying to catch up after resolutely ignoring events for much of the past month. Ruling parties swept from power in special elections called in ninety-two star systems.
The Rift Federation has voted to renegotiate its ties to the Alliance.
Fingal becomes the thirty-sixth star system to demand reduction of its defense commitments and taxes to the Alliance central government.
Black Jack Geary, in comments made on Kosatka, offers only qualified support for the current government. “What? Qualified support? What the hell are they talking about? When that guy asked if I’d follow orders from the government, I said yes, I would.”
Desjani swallowed her bite of ration bar and raised an eyebrow at him. “You said that you’d follow all lawful orders.”
“So?” Geary demanded.
“ ‘Lawful’ is a qualifier. Even a dumb sailor like me knows that.”
“When did saying something that should be a given turn into something subversive?” Geary grumbled.
“When a majority of the population considers the elected government to be corrupt and full of crooks,” Desjani replied. “To many citizens of the Alliance, ‘lawful’ implies sweeping out the criminals.”
“I shouldn’t have answered that guy.”
She shook her head. “And leave the question unanswered? ‘Black Jack Geary refuses to say he supports the government.’ That wouldn’t have produced a better outcome, darling.”
Her use of the endearment calmed him. “Was it only four weeks ago that we got married?”
“Twenty-six days. Even though we won’t be able to act as a married couple aboard my ship, you’re still expected to remember all anniversaries and significant dates, you know.” Desjani coolly took another bite.
“Yes, ma’am.” He liked seeing the annoyed look she usually gave him when he responded like her subordinate, but this time all Tanya did was shake her head at him. Geary eyed her, wondering at how composed she had been since their arrival in Varandal Star System, then finally realizing that Desjani always got calmer when she sensed combat approaching. “Do you expect something to happen when we dock at Ambaru station?”
“I’ve been expecting something since this ship arrived back in this star system, but everything seems quiet so far. No government ships intercepting us to arrest you, no mutinous fleet ships intercepting us to declare you dictator, and no fighting going on between any factions and the government.” She glanced around their compartment, a high-end passenger cabin whose dated but still-luxurious touches had disconcerted both Desjani and Geary since they were used to the fairly Spartan accommodations on warships. But the government in Kosatka had insisted on providing “appropriate” transportation when the orders demanding that Geary immediately return to Varandal were received. At least the charter had prevented having to deal with other passengers on the way back.
Desjani shook her head again, her eyes this time on the outside display. “Maybe it’s my ancestors talking to me. I can sense the tension here, like a star about to go nova, and I don’t like going into action aboard an unarmed ship.”
&nb
sp; “It’s not a battle cruiser,” Geary agreed.
“It’s not my battle cruiser,” she corrected him. “I shouldn’t have left Dauntless for so long.”
“I’m sure she’s fine. Dauntless has a good crew.”
“Excuse me?”
“What I meant to say,” Geary quickly added, “is that Dauntless has the best crew in the fleet. As well as an exceptionally good commanding officer.”
“You’re a bit biased when it comes to the commanding officer, but her crew is the best.” Desjani took a long, slow breath. “My point is that the government may not want you near any battle cruiser or any crew, and we don’t know if any of those warships are planning to act independently. Be prepared for anything when we dock.”
“The message from Duellos we got after arrival implied everything is quiet.”
She considered that, then shook her head. “We can’t be sure he really sent it, or that the content wasn’t modified en route to us.”
Geary closed his eyes to block out their comfortable surroundings, trying to get back into a combat mind-set. “Surely they aren’t still considering arresting me as a threat to the government.”
She grinned, her canines showing to give the expression a fierce cast. “They wouldn’t dare try that openly, now. But you could just disappear, and supposedly be on a special assignment. They’ll try something.”
“ ‘They’? Which ‘they’ do you mean?”
“Someone. There are a lot of possibilities. You’re too dangerous.”
He thought about the crowds they had encountered on Kosatka, Desjani’s home world. Often huge and always enthusiastic to the point of worshipful, they had been inescapable and unnerving in equal measure. Entire cities had seemed to pack into the streets for the chance of a glimpse of the great Black Jack Geary, legendary champion of the Alliance, the man who had stayed with his ship to the end, fighting off a surprise attack by the Syndics to allow other ships to escape. Everyone had thought that Geary had died during that fight at Grendel a hundred years ago; but he had been barely alive, frozen in survival sleep in a damaged escape pod. Geary had finally been found not long ago, awakening to find himself among people who had been taught to believe that he was an incomparable hero. Who do they think Black Jack actually is? I certainly don’t know. He’s someone the government dreamed up to inspire everyone when the initial Syndic surprise attacks knocked the Alliance back on its heels. “The next time the government tries to create a hero to motivate and inspire the population, they’ll probably try harder to make sure that hero is really, absolutely, positively dead.”