“You couldn’t find any factions willing to speak with us? Are the enigmas that uniform a culture?”

  “They’re not united,” Geary said. “We saw clear signs of heavily defended borders within enigma space. But when it comes to dealing with outsiders, they are apparently of one mind.”

  Rycerz made a face, looking to one side. “I’ve been reading all of the reports on the enigmas, including those by the civilian experts with you last time, and there’s nothing in any of them that contradicts you. Murderously paranoid, by human standards.”

  “And probably perfectly rational by their standards,” Geary said. “Not that that’s much consolation for the humans that run afoul of the enigmas. Believe me, we tried to find ways to negotiate with the enigmas, to even just talk meaningfully with them. All they’d do was use human avatars to threaten us.”

  “Diplomacy requires some willingness on the other side to actually talk,” Rycerz said. “Didn’t the Rift Federation know about your experiences with the enigmas?”

  “They did. Their senior officer on that cruiser, the Passguard, is Captain Kapelka, who was with us when we went through enigma space. She knew what she was heading into.”

  “And now we have a wreck returned to us,” Rycerz said sadly. “Go ahead, Admiral. See if there’s anyone left to save. Let me know if you run into any problems with Midway’s people. If you do, I’ll try a direct appeal to President Iceni.”

  “Thank you,” Geary said, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Communications with the planet Iceni was on would require hours for light-speed communications to make the round trip.

  He switched to a different circuit, the one used to communicate with the local authorities at Midway. Not part of the Alliance to which Geary’s fleet belonged, Midway had once been part of the Syndicate Worlds empire. But the leaders of Midway had rebelled as the corporate empire of the Syndicate Worlds crumbled in the wake of the century-long war against the Alliance. And as they were sort-of friends and partners, he couldn’t ignore their sovereignty over this star system.

  Midway’s small fleet was also orbiting, only about ten light minutes from Geary’s fleet. Their heaviest warship, a single battleship, was too ponderous for quickly chasing down Passguard. And Midway’s sole battle cruiser was near the primary inhabited world, another two light hours distant. But Midway also had a handful of cruisers and smaller Hunter-Killers if it decided to deal with Passguard and keep the Alliance warships out of the matter.

  He tapped the control to send a message to the commander of Midway’s flotilla. “Kommodor Marphissa, this is Admiral Geary. My fleet has identified the warship newly arrived from Pele as the Rift Federation cruiser Passguard. If any of the crew are still alive, they need assistance. I’m preparing to send a task force to intercept Passguard. Please advise if you have any objection to my dealing with this matter. Geary, out.” Boundless had been close enough for real-time conversation, but the Midway flotilla was ten light minutes away, meaning every back-and-forth would take twenty minutes.

  Desjani sat back, frowning. “I recommend one battle cruiser and a couple of heavy cruisers. The Marine detachment aboard Dauntless should be large enough to deal with anything aboard Passguard unless that wreck is crammed with enigmas. And if it is, we’d be smarter to stand off and blow it apart rather than engage in a hand-to-hand fight.”

  “Two battle cruisers,” Geary said. “And four heavy cruisers. Just in case the enigmas have rigged a trap. I want enough force on hand to deal with any surprises.”

  “What if Kommodor Marphissa says no?” Desjani asked. “Midway is worried about the Alliance trying to take over here so they might want to demonstrate that they don’t need us.”

  “They can also say that Passguard should be our problem, not theirs, and be glad to hand the whole problem over to us,” Geary said. “We’ll take Dauntless and Daring, along with the Fifth Heavy Cruiser Division. I’ll have General Carabali scramble some reinforcements for the Marine detachments so we’ll have some more muscle on hand if a boarding action is required.”

  “Lieutenant Castries,” Desjani said to one of the bridge watch standers. “Notify Daring and the Fifth Heavy Cruiser Division that we’re going after Passguard, then work out the intercept vector.”

  Geary himself called General Carabali, who promptly offered to come along in the assault transport Tsunami. “That’ll give us plenty of Marines and the hospital facilities aboard this ship,” she pointed out.

  Geary glanced at Desjani, who rubbed her chin as she thought. “If Tsunami pushes her acceleration for all she’s worth, and we limit our own acceleration a bit, she can keep up,” Desjani said. “Dauntless has a good sick bay, but it can’t match the capabilities aboard an assault transport. Having those medical resources along might be worth the slightly longer time to reach Passguard.”

  He nodded to Desjani. “Good idea,” Geary said to Carabali. “We’ll do that.”

  “Lieutenant Castries,” Desjani said. “Notify Tsunami that she’s coming along, and to be prepared for extended maximum acceleration. Then modify your intercept of Passguard to include Tsunami’s acceleration limits.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Lieutenant Castries said, working quickly at her watch station.

  Twenty minutes went by in a flash as they worked on the preparations, the report from the communications watch coming as a surprise. “Admiral, there’s an incoming message for you from the Midway Kommodor.”

  Geary tapped accept, seeing an image of Marphissa appear. Young for her responsibilities, Midway’s senior fleet commander had gained her job when the former Syndicate Worlds commanders in this star system all came to untimely ends during the revolt. From what could be seen around Marphissa, the Kommodor was aboard a shuttle rather than the battleship.

  “Admiral Geary, this is Kommodor Marphissa of the free and independent Midway Star System,” she said. “Midway accepts your offer of assistance in dealing with a former Alliance warship. I am transferring to the cruiser Manticore which will accompany whatever force you send to intercept Passguard. Provide more information to me as soon as possible. For the people, Marphissa, out.”

  Desjani rolled her head back with a sigh. “Lieutenant Castries, we will also be accompanied by Midway’s cruiser Manticore.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” To her credit, Lieutenant Castries flinched only slightly as she began reworking the intercept for a third time.

  * * *

  DIFFERENT warships had different abilities. Battleships, massive, heavily protected, and heavily armed, were also cumbersome compared to other warships. Battle cruisers sacrificed a lot of that protection and some of that armament to reduce mass and add more propulsion units, making them the most agile warships despite their size. In a situation like this, when time mattered, the ability of battle cruisers to reach Passguard as quickly as possible was a perfect match to the requirements.

  Along with the four heavy cruisers and the assault transport Tsunami the Alliance ships accelerated away from their former orbit and the rest of the Alliance fleet, their path through space a long curve that would intercept the path of Passguard. Along the way, Midway’s heavy cruiser Manticore slid in from below to join up with the Alliance ships. A few months ago the idea of a Syndicate Worlds–designed cruiser operating with Alliance warships would’ve felt very strange, and even now it seemed a bit odd. But the fact that Midway’s warships were operated by partners of the Alliance made the weird pairing workable.

  Aided by inertial dampers that kept the forces of acceleration from squashing frail humans and tearing apart their stronger but still vulnerable ships, the fastest warships known to humanity would still require a bit more than six hours to accelerate, cover the billion kilometers, and brake their velocity again to match that of the badly damaged Passguard. While the ability to cross such distances in such a short time was a huge tribute to human ingenuity, it still felt woefully inadequate. Six hours could be a very long time when racing to help people who could be barely hanging on to life.

  That this was a rescue mission rather than a threat or a now-dead ship became more probable more than two hours after the ships started out.

  “Captain,” Lieutenant Yuon said, “sensors have spotted a light flashing from the Passguard. Visible light, repeating a pattern. Three quick flashes, three long flashes, and another three short flashes. Then a pause, and the pattern repeats.”

  Desjani glanced at Geary. “I’m not more than a century old like some people, but that sounds like the ancient SOS distress signal to me.”

  “Me, too.” He didn’t respond to her gibe about how long ago he’d been born as he hunched forward, gazing at his display. “How powerful is that light, Lieutenant?”

  “Sensors estimate it’s a hand light, Admiral. Probably an emergency spotlight. Sensors are spotting enough slight variation in the timing of the flashes to estimate they’re being triggered by a human and not an automated control,” Yuon added.

  “So, someone is still alive on that ship.”

  * * *

  THEY had time to spare before the intercept with Passguard, so Geary called a virtual conference to hash out any problems before then. The conference compartment aboard Dauntless could virtually expand to appear to accommodate hundreds of people, but it required no adjustment this time to fit the number of those present. Geary himself and Tanya Desjani were actually here, while the virtual presences of Captain Vitali from Daring, General Carabali aboard Tsunami, Captain Adam Ochs (who also commanded the Fifth Heavy Cruiser Division) on the cruiser Tenshu, and Kommodor Marphissa aboard Manticore were also “seated” around the table.

  “We have apparent confirmation that there are survivors aboard Passguard,” Geary began. “Any guesses why they haven’t been able to repair any comm systems at least?”

  Captain Ochs shook his head. “Passguard is about ten years old. Lucky to survive that long, but that means her systems are old and unreliable. Before she was recalled to the Rift Federation the joke in the heavy cruiser community was that every resupply for Passguard included plenty of bubble gum and duct tape to keep the ship in one piece. With heavy damage on top of that, it wouldn’t be surprising if nothing is working aboard that ship.”

  “We know the jump drive is still working,” Captain Vitali said. “Otherwise they couldn’t have left jump space. What the hell was the Rift Federation thinking sending a ship like that through enigma space?”

  “Passguard was their flagship,” Geary said. “That’s why it was sent. As far as what they were thinking, I have no idea. We never expected to see any of those Rift Federation ships again.”

  Desjani grimaced. “I’m a little concerned that they waited to flash that distress signal until we were well on our way.”

  “That part makes sense,” Captain Vitali said. “I was in a similar situation once.”

  Nobody asked him to elaborate on that situation. Most of the officers and sailors in the fleet had survived at least one ship being shot out from under them during the bloody and once seemingly endless war with the Syndics.

  “If whoever is still alive on Passguard is dependent on survival suit sensors,” Vitali continued, “then they couldn’t have spotted our ships while we were orbiting that far from them. But, once we accelerated, even the limited sensors on the suits could’ve spotted the energy our propulsion units were putting out, and that would’ve given them a general direction to aim their light toward.”

  “It’s also the perfect lure for a trap,” General Carabali cautioned. “I recommend when we reach that ship we first send a single shuttle in to check on it and see if there really are human survivors.”

  “That’ll take extra time,” Vitali pointed out. “Every minute could count.”

  “I realize that,” Carabali said. “Nonetheless, I believe it’s the only proper course of action.”

  Everyone looked at Geary, because he’d have to decide this.

  “Who’ll be on the shuttle?” Geary asked.

  “Marines,” Carabali said. “An entry team to get through any barriers, a couple of corpsmen to conduct immediate medical assessments, and some muscle in case they run into trouble. They’ll all be volunteers,” she added.

  Captain Vitali aimed a twisted smile at Geary, while Captain Desjani snorted in derision. He knew why. “Volunteer” was one of those words that meant something different to Marines than it did to the rest of humanity. In the Marines, “volunteering” consisted of a senior enlisted or an officer informing various Marines that they’d been chosen for the job.

  But he couldn’t argue with Carabali’s logic. Risking a single shuttle and a squad of Marines made a lot more sense than sending a warship close to what could be a massive bomb. “Very well,” Geary said, a heaviness inside him as he spoke the words that might mean more deaths of those he was responsible for. “That’s what we’ll do. Now I want recommendations from everyone about whether we should try taking Passguard in tow for salvage.”

  Captain Ochs shook his head again, looking worried. “Admiral, from the damage we can see, that ship is torn up bad. Passguard was a candidate for scrap before she was shot up. Even if we can take her under tow without the ship breaking in two, there’s unlikely to be anything aboard worth salvaging.”

  “You don’t think we should even plan for a tow attempt?”

  Ochs waved one hand slightly. “No, sir. That is, there’s no harm in planning. It’ll be good practice. But I don’t think we should expect Passguard will be in any shape to tow, or that she’ll be worth the effort.”

  Kommodor Marphissa spoke up for the first time. “Midway does not want the wreck of a heavy cruiser sailing through our star system as a hazard.”

  “The wreck’s not moving very fast,” Desjani pointed out. “And within a few months it’ll leave this star system and head into the big dark.”

  “Nonetheless,” Marphissa said. “Its current track will take the wreck closer to our primary inhabited world than I am comfortable with.”

  “If we can’t tow it,” Geary said, “we’ll make every effort to nudge it onto a vector up or down out of your star system so it’ll be clear of your own space traffic.”

  “Thank you, Admiral.”

  The Kommodor’s easy acceptance of his assurance earned Geary another sidelong look from Desjani. The people of Midway, raised under the duplicitous and everyone-for-themselves environment of the Syndicate Worlds, and conditioned by the long war to automatically distrust anyone from the Alliance as well, nonetheless had decided that Black Jack Geary was “for the people” and could be trusted to keep his word. Anyone else would’ve been pressed for guarantees. But not Black Jack.

  “Our ships will assume positions far enough from the wreck that our shields can handle the explosion if Passguard’s power core blows,” Geary said. This part was easy, making decisions based on physical capabilities and limitations. “I want the battle cruisers to have their weapons locked on Passguard,” Geary said. “Captain Ochs, I want all of your cruisers to be watching for anything coming off of Passguard, and ready to engage. If the enigmas have planted anything mobile and dangerous on that ship, I want it taken out fast.”

  “And Manticore?” Kommodor Marphissa asked.

  “Are you willing to, um . . .” What was the most diplomatic way to put it? “Stand off and allow us to deal with any threats that develop?”

  Marphissa glanced around the table as she considered the question. Finally, she nodded. “I saw your ships in action at Kane. Manticore will stand off and only engage if something hazardous gets past you.” Marphissa gave a thin smile to Desjani. “I doubt that will happen.”

  Desjani returned the smile. “Nothing will get past us.”

  * * *

  THREE hours later, the main propulsion units and thrusters on all of the warships ceased firing as the ships slid into position around Passguard, their vectors perfectly matched to that of the crippled cruiser so that the entire group of ships was moving through space as one. The two battle cruisers were closest, but still fifty kilometers away from the wreck, the assault transport Tsunami above and slightly to one side of Dauntless. The Alliance heavy cruisers were all one hundred kilometers out from the wreck, spaced around Passguard to catch anything that might launch from it. Midway’s cruiser Manticore was one hundred and fifty kilometers away, positioned to intercept anything that got past the heavy cruisers and headed farther in toward the star.

  This close, the light still blinking an SOS from Passguard could have been dimly made out by the naked eye. The sensors on the warships had no trouble pinpointing its exact location. “It’s at a secondary access hatch forward of amidships,” Geary told General Carabali. “We can see two figures in survival suits who seem to be operating it. Launch your bird as soon as possible and find out if they’re for real.”

  Carabali nodded. “They’re on their way, Admiral.”

  “The enigmas like to generate images of virtual humans for visual communications,” Captain Desjani said, her eyes on her display where every hole in the ravaged hull of Passguard could be clearly seen. “Have they ever faked humans in survival suits or armor?”

  “Using robots?” Geary asked. “Not according to the Kommodor. She sent a query on that to Colonel Rogero, since his forces engaged the enigmas at Iwa, but we haven’t received a reply yet.”