“Roger.” The lieutenant repeated the orders to her platoon, then as the nearest Marine yanked open the hatch, the entire force charged through, the Marines in their heavy combat armor having to duck and twist to get through an opening intended for typical human sizes.
The Marines emerged into what Geary recognized as another section of that broad corridor, this part on the other side of the defended blast doors. Several men and women wearing reinforced survival suits were crouched near the doors. They did not realize at first that there were Marines behind them, but when one turned and cried a warning the rest jerked around rapidly to face this new attack
“Drop your weapons!” The voice of the Marine lieutenant, amplified by her battle armor, boomed through the corridor.
One of the defenders brought up a weapon to aiming position, and died a second later as several Marines put shots through him.
The rest stood frozen before dropping their weapons hastily.
“We got six prisoners and one body,” the lieutenant reported.
The six survivors, whose reinforced survival suits bore a private security contractor symbol, sounded terrified, not defiant like the agents Geary still had detained aboard Dauntless. “We didn’t sign up for this,” one announced. “Don’t want to fight no Marines. We’re on the same side.”
“Uh-huh,” the lieutenant replied. “Who’s in charge? This guy?” She indicated the dead defender.
“No, no, it’s the suits! They only talk to us to give orders. They’re holed up in the command center.”
“Pack ’em up,” the lieutenant told her platoon. “And get those blast doors open.”
“Wait!” another one of the private security guards cried. “We can help you guys! I heard what they’re doing. They’re getting ready to fry all the files in the system! Sanitize the records, they call it. If they know you’ve made it past us, they’ll set off magnetic pulse bombs all over the station!”
“Captain?” the lieutenant called.
“I heard. We’ve got hack and cracks breaking into the systems at remote locations and trying to sever the links from the command center. Hold your position and see what else those guys can tell you.”
The captured contractors had no qualms about spilling their guts since they had been told to stay behind when most of the other occupants of the facility had tried to flee. “No room, they told us. They said they’d send somebody back for us. Then we saw them get blown to pieces. Ever since then, we’ve been hiding in here, hoping those damned ships wouldn’t notice us.”
Geary pulled his attention away from the Marines again, hoping they would successfully prevent the “suits” from destroying all of the records on the facility. “Any changes?” he asked Desjani.
“They’re a bit closer, that’s all,” she said. “How are the grunts doing?”
“They’re working it.” Geary rubbed his lower face with one hand as he considered the situation. “I’m thinking we should—”
“Admiral,” the comm watch-stander announced loudly, “we have a message coming in from one of the dark battle cruisers!” He cringed before Desjani could even direct a withering glare at him, then spoke at a normal volume. “I’m sorry, Captain.”
“I’m the only one who yells on this bridge,” she informed him, “and no one likes it when I do.”
“Yes, Captain. Admiral, what should I do with the message?”
Geary had controlled his initial reaction, managing to just nod in response. “Send it to me.”
The image of Admiral Bloch appeared before him. He had last seen Bloch at the Syndicate Worlds home star system, Prime, when the defeated Bloch was taking a shuttle to the Syndicate flagship to plea for a deal to save the rest of the apparently doomed Alliance fleet. He had thought that Bloch had died that day, along with the other senior fleet officers, murdered by Syndic special forces.
But the Syndics had not wanted to kill a captive whose knowledge might prove valuable. They had kept him, and when the war was over and Bloch’s living presence offered a chance to disrupt the still-hated Alliance, the Syndics sent him home.
Then, having nearly lost the war for the Alliance, and having made little secret of his belief that a military dictatorship overseen by him would cure the ills of the Alliance, Bloch was received by some as a champion. And as someone who might be a counter to the immense popularity of Black Jack Geary. Faced with Black Jack, a hero whose achievements and fame were seen as threats to the government, parts of the government reacted by embracing Black Jack’s antithesis.
It hadn’t gone well for the government, and as Geary looked at Bloch’s image, he saw that it hadn’t gone well for Admiral Bloch, either. From appearances, Senator Unruh’s suspicions that Bloch had already regretted getting what he wanted were extremely accurate.
Bloch was in a compartment that looked like a fairly luxurious stateroom fitted out with a ship’s bridge command fixtures. The lavish compartment was messy, though, with empty ration containers strewn about.
Admiral Bloch himself looked as bad as he had when he left Dauntless on that day at Prime when he was supposed to arrange a surrender of what was left of the Alliance fleet. Geary remembered how dead Bloch’s eyes had seemed then as his dreams of power and glory crumbled. But now his appearance was at least as bad. Admiral Bloch’s eyes held the terror of a small mammal held in a trap.
“Black Jack,” Bloch said with forced familiarity. “Admiral Geary now! Congratulations on that and . . . and on your many . . . many victories. I am in a . . . difficult situation. The ships under my . . . uh . . . that are supposed to be under my command . . . have . . . uh . . . malfunctioned.” His lips bent in a weak attempt at a smile. “Mutiny, you could call it.
“Most of these ships have no provision for crews,” Bloch said, gaining some composure as he described technical matters. “Except this one. The flagship. We have a small area with life support for me and my staff.” His eyes shifted, avoiding looking toward Geary. “We have . . . had . . . two shuttles in the dock on this battle cruiser. For the use of me and my staff. Also fully automated. No pilots.”
Admiral Bloch swallowed uncomfortably. “My staff . . . took one. To try to get to the government facility. They . . . did not make it. Once the shuttle got clear of this ship, it apparently registered as a target for the surrounding ships of the Defender Fleet.”
“That bastard,” Desjani said in a low voice. “He told them to go first so he could see whether or not the dark ships would target a shuttle from his flagship.”
“After which he would take the second one,” Geary agreed.
“You need to know something, Black Jack,” Bloch continued, his attitude now defiant as if he realized what his audience’s reaction would be to his earlier admission. “You’ve been too clever. I can still see what is happening outside of my flagship. Outside of my stateroom. I saw you destroy the docks and warehouses on which my fleet is dependent. Yes, you knocked out the support system for the Defender ships. But even though I cannot control them, I can monitor their decision processes. Do you know what you have done, Admiral? Destroying their support facilities here at Unity Alternate has activated the Armageddon Option in their programming.”
“Armageddon Option does not sound good,” Desjani murmured.
“Once they have destroyed your fleet,” Bloch said, “the Defender warships will proceed to Unity, which their programming now assumes is enemy-occupied, and they will destroy everything at Unity. Then they will move on to other important star systems in the Alliance, destroying as much as they can while their fuel cells and expendable weaponry hold out.”
“Ancestors preserve us,” Geary whispered.
“It gets worse,” Bloch added. It was obvious that he wasn’t enjoying reciting this information. “The largest of the Defender ships, the battle cruisers and the battleships, are equipped with the codes necessary to override the s
afe-collapse systems that have been installed on the hypernet gates. When they are unable to continue their attacks, those ships will trigger the collapse of the gates in whichever star systems they occupy and devastate those star systems. I did not want that option to exist. I told everyone that it should not be placed on an automated weapons platform. But some people demanded it be installed. I don’t think many others even know it is there. But I found out it had been installed, and now I have told you.”
“And what the hell are you supposed to do about it?” Desjani asked Geary, appalled by what Bloch had revealed.
“You can’t let them get out of this star system,” Bloch pleaded. “They will tear the guts out of the Alliance. I’m not a perfect man, Admiral. But this was not supposed to happen. I never would have agreed to accept this assignment if I knew how many flaws existed in the Defender concept. I can help you beat the Defender ships. I know more than you about their programming. About how to outsmart them. We can work together, and win this battle, and save the Alliance together.”
Desjani growled something in a voice so low that Geary could not make out the words.
“I am senior to you, Admiral Geary,” Bloch continued, trying to firm his voice as he spoke. “But even though I am the senior Alliance fleet officer in this star system, I will not insist upon assuming command of the forces here. Your command, your status, is safe from me. I have one shuttle left, which I can use to try to escape . . . my flagship. When the opportunity arises, I will use the shuttle to reach your forces or perhaps the government facility. I see you have Marines there. Excellent. Cover me as best you can. Together, we can destroy the Defender fleet.”
Bloch paused, his eyes haunted. “You may hesitate to accept my offer. I understand. You must realize that I know things. I can tell you who approved all of this, what orders I was given, and what understandings existed with which particular people. You want that, I am sure. And, most importantly for you, I know where Captain Michael Geary is.”
Geary wasn’t sure whether or not Tanya had gasped. His own attention was riveted on Bloch’s words.
“I can tell you where they’ve got him,” Bloch continued. “The Syndics. Just help me get off this . . . off my flagship and I will—”
His image vanished.
“What happened?” Geary demanded.
“The signal cut off clean,” the comm watch-stander said. “It must have been stopped at the source.”
“Admiral Bloch’s flagship figured out that he was plotting against it,” Desjani said. “Once enough word matches and phrases were identified, it pulled the plug on him. What’s the matter, Lieutenant Castries?”
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Castries replied, looking ill. “He’s a prisoner on his own flagship? The idea of our ship turning against us, controlling us—”
“Yeah,” Desjani said. “Why would we give it the power to do that? Ask the idiots who keep coming up with the idea.”
“Do we know which ship the transmission came from?” Geary asked.
“Yes, Admiral. This one.”
On his display, one of the dark battle cruisers that had not been at Bhavan glowed brighter.
Geary shook his head, not sure whether to be angry or frustrated. “That confirms that whether or not Bloch came up with that ambush plan, he was not in command at Bhavan. But we can’t get him off that ship he is trapped on. All I can do is keep fighting the dark ships, and if Bloch sees a chance while I’m doing that, he can take it.”
“He wouldn’t have told you where Michael Geary was even if his flagship hadn’t cut Bloch off,” Desjani said. “That’s his biggest lever to get you to act on his behalf. He could always be lying about your grand-nephew being alive and in some Syndic labor camp,” she added. “Just to manipulate you to help him escape.”
“There’s no way of telling, and there is nothing I can do about it anyway. Do you think he was lying about the Armageddon Option?”
Desjani hesitated. “It sounds way too plausible. And it’s not like you needed more motivation to defeat the dark ships. But giving those ships the codes to enable them to use hypernet gates to destroy entire Alliance star systems? Who would do that?”
“Someone determined to pull everything down around them if they were losing,” Geary said. “It’s happened before, strategies designed to ensure that the victor inherited as little as possible, no matter the cost to the people on your own side. There are people I have met who I believe would adopt that idea. If the Syndics are going to own everything, destroy as much as you can to keep it from benefiting them.”
“How many billions of people in Alliance star systems would die?” Desjani demanded.
“If you’re a narcissist, that’s not the important thing,” Geary said, surprised at the viciousness in his voice. “All that matters is that you’ve lost, and you don’t want the winner to enjoy the victory. A few powerful people who didn’t care what would happen to many other people were in the right places to make that happen. We have to assume Bloch did not lie about the Armageddon Option and the gate codes. The dark ships must be destroyed before they can do those things.”
“Yes, sir.” Her smile held no humor, just agreement. “I don’t know how we can survive this, but we can do our best to ensure none of the dark ships survive, either. As long as we manage to take out one of the dark ships for every one of ours that gets destroyed, we’ll get the job done.”
He stared at his display as if concentration on it would somehow change what it portrayed. “Everything I was trained, everything I was taught, was to avoid that kind of fight. No decent commander engaged in that kind of ugly math.”
“What about a decent commander whose back is to the wall?” Desjani asked. “You got taught not to trade ship for ship. Your training has served this fleet well. But what’s our objective, Admiral?”
“Save the Alliance.”
“How do we do that, this time, without paying the necessary price? Doesn’t the decent commander do what is necessary to ensure that the sacrifice of his or her people is not in vain?”
He nodded. “That is true. But if I don’t set my attacks up right, we’ll lose our ships without taking out enough of the dark ships.”
“So do it right, Admiral.”
“Four formations,” Geary said. “Plus the Dancers. We’ll see how the dark ships handle that.”
With Desjani’s help and the simple-to-use features of his maneuvering display, Geary swiftly set up four formations, using all of the ships in his main body plus those which had been in Delta One. “All units in First Fleet, immediate execute, assume Formations Gamma One, Two, Three, and Four.”
The two Alliance groupings disintegrated, the hundreds of warships weaving onto new vectors to take their assigned places in the four new subformations. Each was in the shape of a thick coin or section of a cylinder, layers of warships that could engage in all directions and help defend each other.
Dauntless, Daring, Victorious, and Intemperate were joined by Illustrious and Incredible along with half of the remaining heavy cruisers and a quarter of the destroyers to constitute Gamma One under command of Captain Desjani. Captain Tulev’s battle cruisers and those of Captain Duellos as well as the other heavy cruisers and another quarter of the destroyers formed Gamma Two under Tulev’s command. The Second, Third, and Fourth Battleship Divisions gathered with half of the surviving light cruisers and a quarter of the destroyers into Gamma Three commanded by Captain Jane Geary, while the Fifth, Seventh, and Eighth Battleship Divisions took the rest of the light cruisers and destroyers into Gamma Four under Captain Armus.
The four fat discs of Alliance warships were arrayed in a vertical diamond, Gamma One and Three in the middle, Gamma Two above, and Gamma Four below.
The Dancers had stayed well above Geary’s ships, and now were above and slightly ahead of Gamma Two.
The five dark ship formations were
all coming in from behind the Alliance ships. As Geary’s forces swung through their wide arc, the dark ships were cutting across that arc, aiming to intercept the Alliance warships by slashing through the rear of the formations at an angle of about thirty degrees.
Geary took a moment to call Captain Tulev, Captain Jane Geary, and Captain Armus. “You need to know everything we have learned about this situation.” He described what he had been told by Admiral Bloch. “That defines our mission. We must stop the dark ships here. If Dauntless or myself are unable to continue the fight, you must do so, and all of your individual ship commanders must do so. Every ship must continue this fight until every dark ship has been destroyed.”
They all nodded, Jane Geary looking stricken, and Armus bleak. Only Tulev replied in words. “To the last, Admiral.”
“To the last,” Geary agreed. The three captains saluted, he returned the gesture, then faced the battle once more.
Rearranging the Alliance warships had taken time, and Geary had held his velocity down to point one light speed during that period to help his ships take their assigned stations. He was also tired of running.
He gazed at his display, nerving himself for the sort of battle he had always sought to avoid. If they had to fight a battle of attrition, he was going to fight the best damned battle of attrition he possibly could.
“Ten minutes until the first of the dark ship formations overtakes us,” Lieutenant Castries reported. “All dark ship formations are projected to pass through the rear quarter of our formations within a span of five seconds, separated by an average of one second.”
“Textbook attack,” Desjani scoffed. “What are we going to do?”
“Mess up their textbook,” Geary said. “And then complicate their next moves.” He was entering maneuvering commands rapidly. “All units in Gamma One, Two, Three, and Four, execute attached maneuvers at time two five.”
With the dark ships racing to hit the Alliance subformations, Geary’s warships pivoted again under the push of their maneuvering thrusters, facing the enemy almost bow on, then using their main propulsion to shift their vectors. The coin-shaped formations had turned edge on toward the approaching dark ships.