The alternative would be to run, now, as fast as the fleet could go, jump to another star system ahead of the Syndics, knowing they’d be right behind this time, the Alliance fleet unable to stop to replenish the auxiliaries again. Sooner or later he’d have to turn and fight, and probably under worse conditions than this. He’d been forced to linger here to restock his auxiliaries, but the fleet would eventually run out of fuel cells if he couldn’t replenish those stocks again, and he didn’t know how that would be possible without first engaging the Syndic pursuit force.
“How do we want to die?” he finally whispered.
Desjani stared at him. “We’re talking about how to win, sir.”
“Then we fight here and try to minimize the Syndic advantages. If our plan works, our chances will get a lot better. If it doesn’t work, we have to try to make the Syndics pay as much as possible for their victory. A head-on clash will too likely destroy us before we can wear them down at all.”
She watched him, then nodded slowly. “Hit them again and again, knowing our time is limited, holding nothing back, because there’ll be no reason to hold anything back. This will be as far as we get toward home.”
“It might come to that, yeah.” He took a long, slow breath, grateful that he’d been able to share that thought with someone.
Desjani flicked her eyes toward the back of the bridge for the barest moment. “Are you going to tell her?”
Her? Rione. “She’s brave enough, but I think she’d have a little trouble understanding.”
“I think you’re right. Captain Geary, if we don’t win, we’re going to make sure this Syndic victory is one they wish they’d never achieved because it’s going to cost them more than they ever imagined possible.”
He felt a smile on his lips and nodded to Desjani. “Damn right we will.”
“Estimated time to engagement range with Syndic Pursuit Flotilla one and one half hours,” the operations watch-stander announced.
IT all came down to timing again. His now-long-dead teachers, officers experienced in decades of fleet maneuvers, had drilled into Geary that the worst temptation a commander faced was to act too soon. Watching the enemy approach for hours or days, it was far too easy to jump the gun, make changes too early that should occur at the last moment before the enemy could see them and react. Make the changes too early, and the enemy would react, then you’d have to change things again, and they’d react again. He’d seen it happen in fleet exercises, as commanders drove ships and crews to exhaustion before the first shots could be exchanged.
Simulate indecision, simulate panic, while all the time real indecision and panic lurked ready to pounce. His fleet was waiting for orders. They trusted him, even though variations on his debate with Desjani were surely happening on a lot of ships. But they’d seen him snatch victory from the jaws of defeat before this, so they waited.
Most of them waited. Captain Casia wasn’t happy. “The Syndic attack is less than fifty minutes away from contact! Why are my ships still at point zero two light speed and accompanying these Syndic wrecks?”
“Your ships are accompanying the Alliance auxiliaries,” Geary pointed out.
“We are the closest to the enemy, and the nearest supporting formation is at least half an hour travel time distant! ”
“That’s correct, Captain Casia.”
Casia’s face reddened. “I will contact the other officers in this fleet and demand an immediate conference to decide on your competence to command. We need a fleet commander who will act, not one who lets this fleet sit idly while an overwhelming Syndic force approaches!”
It would be much easier to lose his temper with Casia, but he couldn’t really afford to do that. Nor did he need the distraction of dealing with a call for a fleet conference right now. Fortunately, he’d learned enough about the way this fleet thought to know how to counter Casia. “Am I correct that you are declining the honor of being in the fore of the battle?” Geary asked, adding a hint of surprise to his voice.
“De—?” Casia broke off his words and swallowed, then spoke with a little less bluster. “That’s not what’s involved.”
“I have arranged the fleet so that your battleship division will meet the enemy first. Do you wish me to inform the fleet that you decline that role?”
“I . . . my ship and my crew deserve a fighting chance!”
“They will have it, Captain Casia. I’m sure Conqueror and her crew will acquit themselves well.”
Unable to contradict Geary without condemning himself in the eyes of his fellow officers, Casia abruptly broke off the transmission.
Slumping back, Geary rubbed his forehead, wishing the Syndics would hurry up and get here. He felt worn-out already, and the day had a lot left in it.
“Ration bar?” Desjani asked, offering one.
“Tell me it’s not a Danaka Yoruk bar.”
“It’s not a Danaka Yoruk bar.”
“Thanks.” Geary took the offered bar, then read the label. “It is a Danaka Yoruk bar. Why’d you tell me it wasn’t?”
“Because you told me to tell you that,” Desjani explained, unable totally to suppress a grin. Her spirits always rose as action drew closer. “They’re all we have left. They taste the worst, so everybody ate the others first. We’ve got some Syndic ration bars from Sancere that we’re about to break out.”
“What are those like?”
“The chief who volunteered to taste test them informed me that they have one great virtue.” She indicated the bar Geary was holding. “They make Danaka Yoruk bars taste good by comparison.”
“If I have to face death today, why does my possibly last meal have to be a Danaka Yoruk bar?” Geary complained. He ripped the seal, then bit off a chunk and tried to swallow without actually tasting the bar. It was only partially successful.
The ration bar did accomplish one thing, distracting Geary from the approach of the Syndic pursuit force while he choked it down. When he focused back on the display, it showed forty minutes until the Syndics closed to engagement range. Five more minutes. Then it’s showtime. Ancestors, I need everything you can give me today. Please guide me.
He called Captain Tyrosian, Captain Cresida, and Captain Casia in a linked transmission. “Get your last shuttles recovered now. Captain Tyrosian, break contact with the Syndic repair ships. In four minutes I’ll provide maneuvering orders for your ships. Captain Cresida, Captain Casia, follow your orders but remember that your overriding priority is to maneuver the ships under your command in order to defend the fast fleet auxiliaries to the best of your ability.”
He watched the final two shuttles still out dodge inside their docks on Titan and Witch as the grapples and conveyors still holding all four auxiliaries to the Syndic repair ships withdrew. Geary checked the latest vector for the Syndic pursuit force and ran out the maneuvering solution, making a small last-moment adjustment. The last minute ticked down, and Geary contacted the auxiliaries again. “Captain Tyrosian, accelerate your ships at their maximum capability. As soon as you clear the Casualty Flotilla, come port zero three degrees, down zero one degrees. Inform the commanders of Titan, Jinn, and Goblin that they are to maneuver as necessary to ensure the vector for the fastest intercept of them by the Syndic pursuit force passes directly through the center of the Casualty Flotilla.”
“Yes, sir,” Captain Tyrosian acknowledged.
“The success of this battle plan depends upon you and the other auxiliaries, Captain. I assure you that the rest of the fleet will be coming to assist in your defense.”
Tyrosian managed a tense smile. “I know you have to make it a good show for the Syndics, sir. We won’t let you down.”
Geary checked his display again. The Syndics were three light-minutes away now, the time lag between what he saw of them and what they were actually doing at that moment growing steadily shorter. Was it time to move some more of his own ships? Not yet. He had to time it right, make it look like the Alliance fleet was reacting in piecemeal, dis
organized fashion while actually bringing his ships in to hit the Syndics at close to the same time.
Titan, Witch, Goblin, and Jinn accelerated with painful slowness, their usual sluggishness now amplified by all the extra mass they’d taken on from the Syndic repair ships. He had factored that in and hoped the maneuvering systems and his own experience with the auxiliaries had been accurate enough to keep them from being overrun by the Syndic pursuit force too soon.
Between the four auxiliaries and the Syndic pursuit force, the four battleships and Cresida’s two battle cruisers accelerated as well, maintaining their relative positions for now. Around them, the two heavy cruisers, twenty light cruisers, and destroyers also serving as escorts kept their speed down and held their position on the Alliance auxiliaries, too.
Geary felt an odd pang of regret as he watched the Alliance ships leaving the deserted ships of the Casualty Flotilla behind, the wreck of Audacious near the center of the formation seeming to protest this latest abandonment. Don’t worry, lady. We’re not giving you back to the Syndics. They’ll discover that you’ve got one punch left in you.
As the auxiliaries cleared the Syndic ships making up the Casualty Flotilla and altered course, Titan began lagging and Goblin fell back to stay with her. “Titan’s acting as if she’s lost a main propulsion unit,” Desjani reported.
Given Titan’s record for suffering damage, Geary still felt a worry that the loss of a propulsion unit was real and not simulated, even though he already knew what the two auxiliaries were doing. “Nice job. It looks just like a real loss of propulsion capability, and along with Goblin, she’s making sure the Syndic intercept path remains centered through the Casualty Flotilla.”
“Warrior is falling back to stay with Titan and Goblin.” Desjani didn’t point out the obvious, that Conqueror, Majestic , and Orion had kept accelerating along with Witch and Jinn, putting them in a marginally safer position.
Geary thought through a number of comments or orders he could direct at the commanding officers of Conqueror, Majestic, and Orion, rejecting almost all of them as unprofessional even though venting them would have made him feel better. Tapping his controls, he called the battleships on a frequency the entire fleet could hear. “Conqueror, Majestic , and Orion, the fast fleet auxiliaries Titan and Goblin are deliberately putting themselves into greater danger and can use all of the close support available. Close on Warrior and assist her in defending Titan and Goblin.” If that didn’t shame the three battleships into doing their duty, at least he’d finally have unquestionable grounds for relieving their commanding officers. But he had a feeling that even such difficult subordinates as Captain Casia and Commander Yin would be more afraid of the contempt of their fellow officers than they would be of the Syndics, and so would feel forced to fall back to help cover Titan and Goblin.
“Where are those heavy cruisers going?” Rione asked.
Geary knew she had to mean Ichcahuipilli and Rondelle, which were now accelerating away from Cresida’s battle cruisers Implacable and Furious as well as the Syndics. “They’ve been ordered to get clear because they’re packed with as many of the wounded prisoners liberated from Audacious as they can carry,” he told her.
“Getting them to obey that order must have taken some work.”
“Yeah. They didn’t want to avoid the fight, and neither did the wounded aboard them.”
“We’re seeing some vector changes on Conqueror, Orion, and Majestic,” Desjani remarked. “Looks like they are finally dropping back toward Titan and Goblin.”
Rione came close to Geary and spoke again, her voice low. “Can this fleet make it back if we save Witch and Jinn but lose Titan and Goblin?”
“If it comes to that, it’ll have to,” Geary replied with an outward confidence he didn’t feel. All of the tactical success in the galaxy wouldn’t save this fleet if it ran out of fuel cells. At best, he might end up having to decide which warships to abandon in the hope that the remainder could make it through to Alliance space.
Rione gazed back at him as if she had read his thoughts, then nodded and returned to her seat.
After a few moments, Captain Desjani spoke, her eyes on her display. “I wonder what it would be like on one of those auxiliaries, seeing that big Syndic flotilla heading for you, knowing that you had limited propulsion and maneuvering ability, limited defensive capability, and no real means of attack.” She glanced over at Geary. “We look down on the auxiliaries and their crews, those of us in the warships, but it must take a great deal of courage to go to battle in ships like that.” He nodded in agreement. “I’ll take a battle cruiser any day,” Desjani concluded, “but I owe those auxiliaries sailors some drinks when we get back.”
“We can send over some cases paid for by the wardroom on Dauntless, Captain,” Lieutenant Nicodeom suggested. “We’ll all be happy to pitch in.”
“Yes,” Desjani agreed. “Remind me to do that, Lieutenant.”
After the long, apparently slow approach of the Syndic pursuit force, the battle was reaching the point where events would begin happening with stunning speed. Even at point one light speed, the vast distances inside a typical star system took time to cover. But once ships traveling those velocities got close enough to their objectives, the remaining intervals seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye, which in fact they did. Human senses and reactions were made to deal with things moving at tens of kilometers per hour, not intercepts occurring at thousands of kilometers per second.
Geary took long, slow breaths, his own gaze fixed on the display. The Alliance fleet subformations, each built around one or two divisions of battleships or battle cruisers, remained scattered in the Big Ugly Ball formation. Captain Cresida’s escort force, the four battleships, the other escorts, and the auxiliaries were at the back and bottom of the bubble. The flattened sphere of the Syndic Casualty Flotilla hung behind the fleeing auxiliaries, its aspect gradually tilting upward relative to the Alliance ships as they headed slightly downward in relation to it.
The surprise they had rigged in the Casualty Flotilla would hopefully substantially even the odds, but to ensure the success of that it was necessary to keep the Syndic attack focused on a line running through that flotilla. The scattered, irregular formation of the Alliance fleet made it hard for the enemy to identify a main axis of striking power to counter, which would have also offered an alternate target for the enemy attack. The Big Ugly Ball also had the virtue of appearing to show a fleet barely held together and ready to fall apart. To the Syndics, who as far as Geary could tell still judged military effectiveness by how precisely everyone maintained position and kept their ranks and files lined up perfectly, the Alliance fleet would look sloppy and therefore less of a threat than it really was.
As the Syndics drew closer, he’d concentrate his forces toward the auxiliaries, timing the movements of each formation to arrive close together. His battle cruiser subformations were farthest forward on the Big Ugly Ball, and therefore farthest from the enemy, so he’d have to turn them first and aim them to intercept the Syndic pursuit force. Fortunately, the sort of aggressive move being initiated by the battle cruisers was exactly what the Syndics would expect to see.
If the surprise worked, his concentrated forces would be able to hit the Syndics hard and at roughly the same time from multiple angles. If the surprise didn’t work . . . then his subformations would have to make repeated fast firing runs on the edges of the Syndic box, avoiding offering a single strong formation for the Syndics to focus an attack on and hopefully wearing down the enemy before the Alliance ships took too much damage themselves and exhausted their fuel cells on all of those fast attacks. The chances of that working were slim to none, but it beat any alternatives that Geary had been able to come up with.
Geary knew that everyone on the bridge was watching him now, but no one spoke to him. They knew he needed to screen out distractions, feel the right moments to order each subformation onto its new vectors, taking into account the time-delayed pictu
re he had of the enemy movements, the time needed to turn and accelerate for his different ship types, and the time delays in communicating with his own ships. “Alliance Formation Bravo Five.” That was the one built around Captain Duellos’s four battle cruisers. “Accelerate to point zero eight light speed and maneuver to intercept the Syndic pursuit force.” He wouldn’t have time to fine-tune each subformation’s approach, but he could set their velocities to bring them into contact with the enemy at the right time and count on most of his commanders at least being able to follow maneuvering system recommendations for an intercept.
A few minutes later he called the subformation built around the Seventh Battle Cruiser Division. “Accelerate to point zero nine light speed and maneuver to intercept the Syndic pursuit force.” Over the next several minutes he ordered the rest of his battle cruisers to turn toward the enemy and accelerate, then waited a short time before beginning to call out similar commands to his battleships in their subformations. The battleships were closer to the auxiliaries, but would accelerate at a slower pace.
On Geary’s display, he could see the Big Ugly Ball formation collapsing in lopsided fashion like an irregular balloon deflating as subformation after subformation of the Alliance fleet moved inward toward points along the path the Alliance auxiliaries were taking. It didn’t look like a fleet turning to fight, but rather like each individual subformation had independently decided to act.
“Very nice,” Desjani said admiringly. “It looks terrible, but it’s very nice. If I was outside this fleet, I’d think every subformation was calling its own shots.”
“Let’s just hope it all works,” Geary muttered under his breath.
The action was playing out along a single path leading back to the jump point from Ixion, with the Alliance subformation containing the auxiliaries a moving target whose path was the aim point for the Syndic pursuit force’s box formation coming from behind and slightly above, while the Alliance Big Ugly Ball formation was collapsing from slightly above and ahead toward roughly the same spot along the projected track of the Alliance auxiliaries. Between the Alliance forces and the Syndic pursuit force was the flattened sphere of the Casualty Flotilla. As the Syndic pursuit force’s intercept of the Alliance auxiliaries drew near, Captain Cresida accelerated Furious and Implacable toward the enemy, knowing her battle cruisers would never survive a direct clash with the Syndic battleships but aiming to disrupt the enemy assault.