The Lost Fleet – Dauntless

One by one, the Marine squad leaders reported in, declaring the merchant ships to be to the best of their knowledge unarmed and proceeding peacefully to the rendezvous. But Geary noticed that the Marines watching the Syndic crews didn’t relax, remaining on full combat footing. Once again, he had a moment of empathy, wondering how it felt to the merchant sailors to have the armored figures of Marines looming nearby, alien visitors to the familiar compartments of their ships. As long as they don’t try anything, they’ll be safe. They should know that, after the way we handled the prisoners at the base. That should keep anyone from doing anything foolish.

The merchant ships crawled closer to the Alliance fleet, Geary watching the streaming images of the Syndic merchant crews as seen by the Marines on one side, while on the other his display showed the twenty Syndic merchant ships proceeding at what felt like a leisurely pace toward their rendezvous with the Alliance auxiliaries.

Nothing seemed to be wrong. Nothing at all. What could I be overlooking? Geary searched his brain for anything, but he kept coming up empty. Maybe for once we did cover everything.

“Captain Geary, this is Colonel Carabali.”

A new window had appeared, showing Carabali’s face. She didn’t look happy. “Sir, there’s something about this I don’t like.”

And maybe we didn’t. Geary glanced toward Captain Desjani and gestured for her attention. “The Colonel’s unhappy about something.”

Desjani frowned and keyed into the conversation.

“Go ahead, Colonel,” Geary ordered.

Carabali pointed at something Geary couldn’t see. “Are you watching the video from the Syndic ships, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Does anything seem odd about their crews to you, sir? As a fleet officer, sir?”

Geary frowned, too, and studied the pictures more closely. There was something odd about them, now that Carabali had drawn his attention to it. “Are the senior merchant officers all supposed to be on their bridges?”

“Yes, sir, they are.”

Desjani made a brief noise. “The Syndics seem to grow their senior merchant officers very young, don’t they?”

Carabali nodded. “Yes. Exactly. I assume the Syndics called for volunteers to crew these ships, but as far as I can tell from visual examination, there’s not a man or woman aboard those ships older than their twenties.”

“Interesting batch of volunteers,” Geary said slowly. Most of the merchant captains I knew wouldn’t have left their ships to someone else, even for a run like this.”

“I’ve questioned my Marines. They indicate there was a definite lack of familiarity with the ships by many of these so-called crew members. They thought that was due to volunteers being assigned to the ships from the pool of available merchant sailors, but I’m not so sure that’s the reason.”

Geary thought about that and didn’t like it. Merchant ships tended to have older officers, people who’d learned their jobs and worked their way up through long years of experience. It was a very different kind of professionalism than the fleet officer kind, but strong enough in its own way. He took another look at the alleged merchant crews. “Young and physically fit, too, aren’t they?”

“Look at their eyes, sir. Look at the way they carry themselves,” Carabali urged.

“Damn.” Geary exchanged a glance with Desjani. “Those aren’t merchant sailors. They look like soldiers.”

“I’d stake my career on them being military,” Carabali agreed. “And not just any military. They’re trying to slouch around and act like civilians, but they don’t really know how to relax like that anymore. They’ve been too highly trained. They look to me like the sort of people you find in shock troops.”

“Shock troops.” Geary inhaled slowly. “The sort of troops you send on desperate missions.”

“Or one-way missions. Yes, sir.”

Desjani looked ready to order mass murder, and for once Geary didn’t blame her. “Alright, Colonel. What do you think they’re planning? Some sort of attack?”

Carabali chewed her lower lip. “Not a conventional assault. They’re too few, they’re not in armor, and they can’t have weapons easily accessible because we’d have found them. If there were sailors guarding them, they might still be able to overwhelm the guards, but not with my Marines on watch in full combat gear.”

“That’s what I’d think. Then what? We’ve confirmed there’s no weapons on those merchant ships.”

Desjani jerked as if struck by a thought, then leaned toward Geary and spoke in a low but urgent voice. “They have a weapon, sir. Their power cores.”

Geary blinked, trying to digest the information and seeing Carabali pale slightly as she heard Desjani’s statement. “Their power cores. Do you think they mean to overload their power cores when they get close to our ships?”

Carabali nodded vigorously. “Captain Desjani is right, sir. I’m sure of it. Look at the eyes of those Syndics, sir. They’re on a suicide mission.”