Seconds later, Dungeon finally began pulling up, her course vectors altering oh-so-slowly toward the rest of the fleet, while momentum still carried her closer to the merchants.
Desjani was watching the heavy cruiser’s progress silently, her face an emotionless mask, doubtless also remembering Sutrah.
“Ten seconds to closest-point-of-approach for Dungeon to the nearest merchant ships,” the operations watch reported.
“They’re lighting off their propulsion systems,” Desjani said an instant later. The merchants’ propulsion systems had kicked in, thrusters pushing the clumsy vessels up, aiming to try to intercept the Alliance fleet, which would pass over them. “They all lit off at about the same time. It must be automated controls with all the merchant ships slaved together. No bunch of civilians could have managed that coordinated an action.”
“Even if a bunch of civilians were willing to charge at this fleet,” Geary agreed, his eyes on the seconds counting down for Dungeon to clear the merchant ships.
Given the light-seconds separating the rest of the fleet from Dungeon and the merchant ships, they saw the explosions three seconds after they’d taken place. “The two merchant ships closest to Dungeon’s track have suffered core overloads,” the operations watch reported. “Assess that Dungeon will be within the outer limits of the danger area and may sustain damage.”
“They thought they could use your own trick against you?” Desjani complained.
“Maybe they thought someone else might be in command, or else that Admiral Geary had grown complacent,” Rione replied.
Whatever the reason, the Syndics had modified the improvised ship minefield Geary had used at Lakota. “That’s not a bad idea,” he commented, “putting their ships under automated controls to close on their targets if the targets aren’t coming to them. We need to keep an eye out for that kind of tactic happening again.”
“Even the Syndics wouldn’t throw away functioning warships that way,” Desjani said. “But from now on, I am going to be inclined to shoot first if any merchant ship tries to get close.” She frowned at her display. “Lieutenant Yuon,” Desjani called to one of the watch-standers, “those Syndic core overloads seemed much more powerful than they should have been. Find out how much the Syndics have boosted the power of those explosions and get an estimate of how they did it.” She gave Geary a warning look. “If we get within hell-lance range, we might be close enough for those things to damage some of our ships.”
“Concur. Let’s not take chances.” He had developed a hesitation to use specter missiles as the fleet’s supply dwindled during the long retreat home, but the fleet’s missile magazines had been topped off at Varandal, and missiles were clearly what was called for here. Still, merchants only had shields good enough to block radiation, no armor, no defenses, and these merchant ships were lumbering along easily predictable, smooth vectors aimed at trying to intercept the Alliance warships. It was the work of a couple of seconds to ask the fleet combat systems to assign one missile each from enough warships to engage each merchant ship with the single specter, which would be all that was needed to destroy it. But before Geary could tap the execute command, a delighted laugh from Desjani drew his attention.
“The Syndics packed the formation too tight,” she explained. “It would have been more effective if we’d run straight into them, but as it is . . .” Desjani laughed again and waved at her display.
The two merchant ships that had destroyed themselves with core overloads had been close enough to some of the other merchant ships for the blast effects to trigger core overloads in the other ships as well. As those merchant ships blew, they took out more of their neighbors, whose own core overloads set off even more destruction in the ships close to them.
An expanding wave of destruction was unfurling through the mass of Syndic merchant ships as the Syndic minefield obliterated itself in a flurry of fratricide. “I guess we can save our missiles,” Geary commented, then his satisfaction at watching the self-elimination of the Syndic booby trap vanished as Dungeon staggered out of the edges of the zone of destruction created by the core overloads of the first two Syndic merchant ships. Geary bit back a curse as he saw automated damage status reports coming in from Dungeon. By the time Dungeon had become aware of the explosions, it was too late to react, and the heavy cruiser had taken the brunt of the blasts on one side of her stern. Geary hit his comm controls harder than he had to. “Dungeon , I need a full damage report and estimated time of repair to your damaged propulsion units as soon as possible.” Switching circuits, he made a call to Tanuki.
Captain Smyth, who at Varandal had assumed command of the auxiliaries division from a visibly relieved Captain Tyrosian, answered several seconds later. “Yes, Admiral?”
“I need your assessment and repair estimate for the damage to Dungeon,” Geary explained. “Initial reports indicate the damage to most of her propulsion units is too severe for Dungeon to fix herself. If that’s the case, I want to know how long it would take to get enough of her propulsion units back online so she can keep up with the fleet.”
“Certainly,” Captain Smyth answered cheerily. “I’ll get back to you.”
“Casual attitude, even for an engineer,” Desjani commented.
“True,” Geary agreed. “But he seems ready and willing to follow orders. Tyrosian did an okay job as division commander, but she never enjoyed it and seemed overwhelmed at times.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Captain?” Lieutenant Yuon reported. “The core overloads were about fifty percent stronger than merchant-ship core overloads should have generated. Analysis indicates the Syndics packed the merchant cargo containers with explosives and accelerants of various kinds.”
“They wanted to get us while we thought we were outside the danger area,” Desjani commented. “That won’t be a problem now.” She smiled as the Syndic merchant ships at the far edges of the improvised minefield blew themselves apart as the wave of destruction reached them, leaving only an expanding field of debris where the large group of merchant ships had once been. “Lovely, isn’t it? The only thing better than blowing away Syndic warships is watching Syndic ships blowing away each other.”
Geary just smiled back at her briefly, then focused on the rest of the situation. The Alliance warships were well clear of the debris field and opening the distance. Dungeon was far too close to the danger area but should be able to avoid being caught again. Now that he’d dealt with the Syndic forces near the jump exit, he could take the time to evaluate other Syndic defenses in Atalia.
There wasn’t much else. As a front-line star system, Atalia had been fought over repeatedly for the last century, defenses in fixed orbits cratered or blown apart as fast as they could be constructed. Since the last time the Alliance fleet was there, a short while ago, the Syndics had thrown together a variety of fixed defenses like rail guns mounted on moons, asteroids, and a new orbital fort. In addition, a few Syndic Hunter-Killers, roughly similar to but smaller than Alliance destroyers, hung around the two other jump points Atalia boasted. One jump point led back to Padronis, a white dwarf star with nothing to commend it, and the other to the ruined star system of Kalixa. In about four more hours, once the Syndic HuKs saw the light announcing the arrival of the Alliance fleet, one of them would undoubtedly jump out to carry the news of the Alliance fleet’s movements to other star systems. Maybe two HuKs would jump if the Syndics had tried to rebuild anything at Kalixa.
Aside from the HuKs, there was only a single light cruiser orbiting one of the planets in the inner system. No surprise there. With the Syndics so short of warships, they had probably pulled back just about everything left to defend their home star system. The FACs had been a defense of desperation.
Geary told the combat system to come up with a plan for bombarding the fixed defenses with kinetic projectiles, “rocks” in fleet parlance, then, when the solution popped up a moment later, punched approve and watched as dozens of his warships be
gan spitting out chunks of solid metal that would strike their targets with tremendous amounts of energy gained by their speed. Nothing in a fixed orbit could possibly avoid getting hit, but for his warships, dodging any shots fired by the rail guns at the fleet across light-hours of distance wouldn’t be hard at all. Still, Geary didn’t want to have to worry about dealing with that as the fleet cut across the outer reaches of the star system, nor did he want those rail guns targeting Dungeon with barrages while the heavy cruiser was trying to make repairs.
Dungeon still hadn’t called when Captain Smyth’s image reappeared. “Quite a mess,” Smyth announced in the same cheerful tones. “Dungeon should have ducked! That cruiser can’t fix herself. Two main propulsion units are totally blown. Tanuki or Titan can do the job, but it will take an estimated four days. Until then, that cruiser is going to be limping along.”
Meaning the fleet would have to limp along with it. Geary took only a moment to consider his options, knowing that slowing the fleet down that much in enemy territory wouldn’t be wise. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Anytime!”
“I wonder how he reacts to really bad news,” Desjani said.
“Probably the same. More stuff needs fixed, so he’s happy,” Geary speculated.
“You can’t ask for a better attitude from an engineer. Speaking of engineers and attitudes, did Captain Gundel ever finish that study you assigned him to keep him out of your hair?”
“No, he didn’t. I left him in Varandal, still working away on it.”
Desjani shook her head. “How long do you think it will take him to realize that since the fleet made it back to Varandal, there is no more need for a study on logistical requirements for getting back to Varandal?”
“I don’t think Captain Gundel is deterred by minor issues like whether or not a report has any purpose. In any case, the point of that report was just to keep him occupied with something harmless, so it’s still fulfilling its function.” There wasn’t any sense in putting off what he had to do next. He called Dungeon.
The cruiser’s captain stared out of the virtual window floating before Geary’s display. “Sir, we’re still evaluating the damage.”
“My readouts and an evaluation from the engineers on the auxiliaries indicate repairs will take four days and require major external support,” Geary replied. “Is that consistent with your evaluations so far?”
Dungeon’s commanding officer nodded even though he clearly didn’t want to. “Yes, sir.”
“The fleet can’t slow down enough to accompany you that long,” Geary stated bluntly. “Dungeon will have to return to Varandal and get repairs there. You can report on the results of our action here in Atalia.”
Now the cruiser’s captain simply seemed horrified. “Please, sir. It’s not about me. The crew deserves to accompany the fleet on this historic mission. Dungeon can keep up, sir.”
“No, she can’t. I don’t like doing this, Commander, but your own actions created this situation. I’m just grateful that Dungeon wasn’t destroyed by that improvised minefield. I give you credit for reacting, belatedly, to my orders to steer clear of it. If not for that obedience to my orders, you’d be relieved of command. But you did follow orders, although too late to keep your ship from being damaged. I won’t imperil every other ship in the fleet and our mission by spending four extra days crawling through this star system while Dungeon gets repaired. I regret that Dungeon won’t accompany the fleet, and my report will state that Dungeon’s return to Varandal in no way reflects adversely upon her officers and crew, but I have no choice here. Detach and return to Varandal at best speed for repairs, Commander.”
“Yes, sir.” Looking as pale as a ghost, Dungeon’s captain saluted awkwardly.
Geary sat slumped for a moment afterward, glaring at his display.
“He was lucky,” Desjani finally commented.
“I know. So were we. How desperate must the Syndics be to have rigged that kind of defense here?”
“Very desperate.” The thought seemed to bring further joy to Desjani.
Rione finally spoke again. “Did any of the Syndics on those small craft survive?”
Desjani grimaced at the query, then looked a question at one of the watch-standers.
“Probably not, Madam Co-President,” that lieutenant answered. “The FACs are so small that any hit is likely to hit the crew, too. There’s no survival pod, just the FAC itself and the suits of the one or two personnel in the crew. Survival time with the FAC’s systems knocked out is . . . uh . . . estimated at half an hour to an hour.”
“Then there’s no sense in asking Dungeon to search for survivors and take them prisoner?” Rione asked.
Without speaking directly to Rione, Desjani answered this time. “They were on a suicide mission. They knew it. If any still survive long enough for Dungeon to get close, they might well trigger further explosions on the wrecks of their craft or by using explosives attached to themselves.”
Seeing Rione’s unhappiness, Geary called Lieutenant Iger, relaying Desjani’s assessment. “Do you concur?”
Iger spoke to some of the other intelligence personnel, then nodded. “Yes, sir. Whoever was crewing those FACs under these conditions had to be fanatics ready to die for their cause. Unless one of them is dead or unconscious, I wouldn’t get close.” He paused in thought. “But even then their bodies might be rigged with proximity fuses activated by a dead-man mechanism. I wouldn’t risk it, sir.”
One more reminder, as if Geary needed any, of how ugly this war had become over the course of a century. “Sorry, Madam Co-President.”
“I understand.” She stood up. “I’m going to go back to my stateroom and pretend I was there during this entire time. Senators Costa and Sakai are not aware that politicians are permitted on the bridge during such periods, and I’d rather they not learn differently.”
As Rione left, Desjani gave her a suspicious glance. “Why is she being nice?”
Geary followed her gaze. “I have no idea.”
“Does she know your plans?”
“Not in detail.” He could have added “not like you,” but decided that would be overkill.
Desjani smiled grimly. “Good. When does everybody find out?”
“A day and a half, just a few hours before we jump out of here.”
“Good,” she repeated. “Dungeon will have hobbled back to the jump point and left for Varandal by then, so no last-minute messages to her can compromise your plans.”
“Right.” He said it as if he’d already thought of that, but Desjani’s grin told Geary he hadn’t gotten any better at lying.
THE fleet had been in the Atalia Star System for just over twelve hours when the transmission came in from the primary inhabited world. Seven individuals stood behind a broad desk, one of them speaking earnestly. “From the senior Syndicate Worlds’ CEOs in Atalia Star System to Captain Geary. We have voted to secede from the Syndicate Worlds and establish an independent star system. We wish to offer the formal surrender of Atalia to the Alliance on the condition that you personally guarantee the safety of everyone in it from further attack or reprisal.”
Geary leaned back in a chair in his stateroom, staring at the screen, then forwarded it within Dauntless. “Madam Co-President, I need you to look at this message.”
Less than ten minutes later, his hatch announced Rione’s arrival. She carried an air of triumph mingled with worry as she entered. “Surrender. Do you know the last time a Syndic star system surrendered to the Alliance?”
“No.”
“It’s never happened. They can be conquered and subdued with great effort, and individual groupings of forces or cities might surrender under pressure, but not an entire star system.” Rione sat down, her eyes hooded. “There’s no sign of revolution within this star system?”
“No. It doesn’t seem to be happening like it did at Heradao. Fleet sensors and the intelligence section haven’t picked up internal fighting or any problems with the Syn
dic command and control net.”
Rione’s eyes went toward the star display in Geary’s stateroom. “We killed the backbone of the loyalist forces at the jump exit. All the ones who would have died rather than surrender. They did, and now what remains is far less eager to fight hopeless battles.”
That made sense but still left a big question. “How the hell do I accept the surrender of a star system? I don’t have a fraction of the Marines and other ground forces we’d need to occupy just a few critical places.”
She gave him a rueful look. “You might also ask how you intend protecting this star system from Syndic retaliation. I assume you’re not interested in leaving a substantial portion of your fleet behind.”
“No.” Geary paced, trying to figure out how to respond. “Dungeon hasn’t jumped yet. I checked her position, and we should have time to get a message to her before she leaves for Varandal. Dungeon can carry the message, and the Alliance can push some other units in here to handle any light warships the Syndics might still have in this region.”