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FOUR

“YOU’RE not going to change the formation?” Captain Desjani asked again.

“No, I’m not going to change the formation!” Geary gave her an annoyed glance. How many times had she asked the question over the last hour? “We need to look like an easy, disorganized target.”

“Sir, with all due respect, we are an easy, disorganized target in this formation.” Desjani saw Geary’s scowl deepen but kept speaking. “Our firepower is spread throughout a wide region. The Syndics will be able to overwhelm each of those subformations one after another, just like we overcame each weak Syndic formation we encountered.”

She was stubborn, but she was smart, and under other circumstances she’d probably be right. Geary forced down his temper. “We can’t engage them as a fleet. They have too great an advantage in firepower when you take into account that they probably have much bigger stocks of missiles and grapeshot on hand than we do.”

“If we concentrate on one part of the formation like you did last time we were in Lakota-”

“Tanya, look.” He gestured at the display. “Last time the Syndics let themselves get suckered into spreading out to catch us, which allowed us to concentrate and punch through. The CEO in command now was smart enough to learn from that. The Syndic formation is already concentrated into a fairly tight box.”

“Then we can maneuver around it.”

“Not with our fuel cell reserves in the state they are and not with the auxiliaries to worry about! They’ve taken on a lot of materials, and they’re sluggish as hell again with all of that extra mass.” Desjani glared at the display, clearly wanting to argue some more. Geary kept his voice reasonable with some effort. “The disadvantage of the Syndic formation is that it’s so deep and dense that their CEO can’t maneuver it easily. If our trap fails, we’ll have to take what advantage we can of that by hitting it again and again on the edges.”

“It would take forever to wear down that force that way,” Desjani pointed out. “We don’t have enough fuel cells to do that, either.”

He took a moment to reply, looking at the display again, where the Syndic pursuit force was eight light-minutes distant. It had reached point one light speed and was still coming right for them, its box formation looking like a huge brick aimed at the Alliance fleet’s bubble. Desjani was right, of course. He knew that. Sure, a head-on clash of concentrated formations would almost certainly result in the Alliance fleet being shattered against the much stronger Syndic force. But at least the end would happen quickly. What would be the purpose of drawing it out, losing ships one by one over a much longer period, with the same defeat awaiting them in the end?

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, disorganized 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 picture 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.

The Syndic path had been dictated by the paths of their targets, the lagging Alliance auxiliaries formation. The Alliance auxiliaries had kept to courses and speeds calculated so that the shortest, fastest path between them and the Syndics stayed straight through the drifting and now-totally abandoned Casualty Flotilla of badly damaged Syndic warships. Human instincts sought things to hide behind even in space and even when the objects screening them were woefully inadequate, so the auxiliaries’ movements would seem perfectly natural, a desperate attempt to shield themselves using the only possible obstacle between them and the enemy.

An enemy commander less certain that Alliance forces were disorganized, running, and close to beaten, less focused on the glory and advancement that would come with finally defeating the Alliance fleet and less angered by the renewed losses inflicted on damaged Syndic warships in Lakota Star System might have wondered why the auxiliaries had seemingly been left lightly supported. But the obvious and frantic looting of abandoned Syndic ships in the Casualty Flotilla up until the last possible moment would match Syndic expectations of an Alliance fleet desperate for supplies.

Now the entire situation appeared quite natural to someone not looking beneath the surface appearance of fleeing Alliance warships trying to keep the false cover offered by the hulks of the Casualty Flotilla between them and the threat of the onrushing Syndic pursuit force. The Alliance battle cruisers turning to rush pell-mell into battle also matched expectations, as did the belated maneuvers of the Alliance battleships also to come to the aid of the auxiliaries. It was all no doubt exactly what the Syndic commander expected.

If everything looks like it’s going according to plan, Geary’s second commanding officer had liked to say, try to spot whatever you missed that’s about to bite you in the butt.

Apparently not having had the benefit of such advice, the Syndic CEO was confidently charging along the straightest, tightest intercept his flotilla could manage, doubtless already imagining the sweet taste of victory. The abandoned ships in the Casualty Flotilla couldn’t maneuver and had no weapons operational, and so posed no threat to warships that could safely cut very close to the predictable paths of the drifting wrecks.

If not for the inspiration provided by Victoria Rione’s suggestion, the Syndic CEO might have been safe in assuming that was true. Minefields, after all, were supposed to be as well concealed as possible, not sitting out in plain sight. Mines were also supposed to be small enough to be hidden by stealth features, not as huge as the power cores of warships.

Geary watched the path of the Syndic pursuit force, the big box sweeping with its broad side forward on a vector that would cause the flattened sphere of the Casualty Flotilla to pass almost right through the center of the Syndic formation. Because the Alliance auxiliaries had headed slightly down, and the Syndic pursuit force was coming from above, the flattened sphere of the Casualty Flotilla was cocked slightly upward relative to the pursuit force’s box, reducing the angle at which they’d meet. That box had greater length and width than the crushed sphere of the Casualty Flotilla, but slightly less depth. As the pursuit force raced toward its intercept of the Alliance auxiliaries, numerous Syndic warships inside the box formation made minor adjustments to their courses, in many cases aiming to skim just above or below the ships of the Casualty Flotilla, to let the Casualty Flotilla pass through the pursuit force’s box.

The smart proximity fuses, which had been cannibalized from Alliance mines and mounted on the outside of the hulls of the hulks, their parameters adjusted to reflect the destructive effect of the improvised weapons they were now linked to, watched the oncoming enemy ships, calculating when to detonate their charges in order to catch targets moving toward them at almost a tenth of the speed of light. As the Syndic formation reached the right point, the fuses triggered overloads in the still-active power cores of the abandoned ships in a rippling mass of destruction into which the Syndics raced with no time to react.

An entire region of space lit up as so many power cores blew, including that of Audacious, the broken battleship striking one last deathblow against the enemy. A dense field of high-velocity debris, particles, and energy burst outward in all directions, reaching maximum intensity and size in the fraction of a second in which the Syndic formation sped through that area of space.

Geary watched, tense, as the center of the Syndic formation disappeared inside the massive explosions. The edges of the Syndic box were outside the zone of destruction, but its center had been caught almost perfectly.

Moments later the display updated, evaluating the Syndic pursuit force’s status as it shot out of the still-expanding death throes of the Casualty Flotilla.

Muffled cheers erupted around Geary. Captain Desjani gasped a brief sound of glee. He simply stared, shocked at how much damage had been inflicted on the enemy.

Every ship in the Casualty Flotilla had disappeared, of course, totally destroyed by the explosions of their power cores. Most of the Syndic HuKs in the blast area had also vanished, those caught in the densest portions of the explosions blown into pieces too small to be worth tracking. Larger chunks of debris marked the remains of light cruisers and those heavy cruisers which had been caught dead on by the blasts. Two heavy cruisers emerged from the edges of the detonation field intact, but with their systems blown, falling off helplessly down and to port. Only five heavy cruisers survived in the outer parts of the Syndic formation.

Every Syndic battle cruiser in the zone of destruction had been knocked out, some literally broken into pieces and others still in one piece but with no operating systems. Of the thirteen battle cruisers the Syndic pursuit force had boasted, nine were either destroyed or out of commission.

Out of the pursuit force’s thirty-one battleships, twenty had been caught in the blast zone. Eight of those were still intact but knocked out. Another nine were badly hurt, staggering onward with shields blown and many systems out. The other three were damaged but appeared still combat-capable.

“I think the odds just shifted in our favor,” Desjani announced, her eyes bright with battle lust as the opposing forces began to come together.

Chances were the Syndic CEO in charge of the pursuit force had either died in the destruction of the Casualty Flotilla or was on a ship with all systems blown and unable to communicate with his own ships. Lacking new orders, the surviving Syndic warships stuck to their last commands, bearing down on the fleeing Alliance auxiliaries. Their formation now resembled the outline of a box, with the center torn out and trailing behind as crippled ships fell away.

Furious and Implacable, their hopeless charge now facing a much-diminished enemy, tore across one side of the now-empty Syndic box, concentrating their fire on the leading Syndic battleship as the moment of firing opportunity came and went in a flash. The Alliance battle cruisers’ escorts focused their own fire on the lighter units with the Syndics, taking out a few HuKs and two light cruisers.

As Captain Cresida’s warships rocketed away and began the vast turn required to make another firing pass at the Syndics, the enemy battleship, which had caught successive volleys of specter missiles, grapeshot, and hell lances, began sliding out of position, its aft propulsion systems still at full strength, but its forward sections torn and battered.

Furious took several hits, one hell-lance battery and null-field projector out of commission,” the combat watch-stander reported in a precise voice. “Implacable has lost two hell-lance batteries and suffered minor damage to one propulsion system. Both battle cruisers expended all of their missiles and grapeshot on that pass. Utap has lost all combat systems but remains able to maneuver. Arbalest and Raven’s Beak have taken serious damage but can remain with their formation.”

Less than two minutes later the Alliance subformations began arriving at their intercept points. Captain Tulev led Leviathan, Steadfast, Dragon, and Valiant against another edge of the Syndic formation. The Alliance battle cruisers once again concentrated their fire, and this time as they pulled away one Syndic battleship had taken severe damage and one of the remaining Syndic battle cruisers drifted with all systems dead.

Captain Duellos brought Courageous, Formidable, and Intrepid in next, badly damaging another Syndic battleship, then the five surviving battle cruisers of the Sixth and Seventh Divisions ripped past and took out two of the last three Syndic battle cruisers.

Then it was the Fourth Battle Cruiser Division’s turn. As important as it was for Dauntless to reach Alliance space intact, Geary hadn’t been able to think of any way to keep her out of the battle. Even if he had told everyone that Dauntless held the enemy hypernet key, her crew would still have clamored to have their proper place in battle and been deeply ashamed if kept away from the engagement.

Not to mention the shame that Tanya Desjani would feel. Knowing her, she’d probably resign her command rather than endure such a disgrace.

They’d listen to him, they’d learn, but if he pushed too far, they’d rebel against what they saw as humiliation. Geary had to accept that.

Dauntless, Daring, and Victorious bore down on a portion of the Syndic formation holding an already-damaged battleship and the sole surviving Syndic battle cruiser. With the Alliance warships traveling at close to point zero eight light speed and the Syndics still just above point one light speed, the moment of actual battle was far too brief for human senses to register. The Syndics were ahead, then they were behind, Dauntless still shuddering from the hits on her during the millisecond in which she’d been within range of the enemy weapons.

“Spot failures on forward and port shields,” the damage-control watch reported. “Hell lance battery one alpha has lost one weapon. Structural damage at frames forty-five and one twenty-seven.”

“Very well.” Desjani nodded, her eyes on the display where the results of the Alliance battle cruisers’ firing pass were appearing. She grinned fiercely. “Got him!”

Geary felt himself smiling grimly as well. The last Syndic battle cruiser was spitting out escape pods, then blew up as its power core overloaded. The already-damaged Syndic battleship had taken more hits and was slowly losing speed.

Then his smile vanished. The Alliance battle cruisers were all turning to make more firing passes, the battleships and the rest of the fleet were still coming on, and even though the Alliance auxiliaries and their escorts had put on a burst of speed and curved their courses up and to the side, the remaining Syndics were closing to firing range. With the fleeing auxiliaries and their close escorts going in the same direction as the oncoming Syndics, the relative speed of the warships was much slower. This encounter would play out slowly enough for human senses to observe.

Geary saw Desjani watching him and indicated the auxiliaries. “If we lose them, then it doesn’t matter how many Syndic warships we kill today. We’ll still have lost this battle.”

“You had to risk it,” she said in a low voice.

“I know.”

Warrior, battered at Vidha and again at Lakota the first time the Alliance fleet was here, swung out to block the Syndics aiming at Titan and Goblin. A pair of Syndic HuKs apparently thought they could dart past the badly hurt Alliance battleship, but learned that Warrior could still punch as her few still-working hell lances ripped into the lightly protected HuKs. A Syndic light cruiser right behind the HuKs tried to trade fire with Warrior, only to be knocked out as well.

But behind the light cruiser came two almost untouched Syndic battleships. Missiles leaped from them, aiming for Titan and Goblin. Warrior and the Alliance destroyers with her targeted the Syndic missiles, taking out most of the missiles but leaving them unable to engage the battleships directly.

Moving almost painfully, Warrior swung again, sliding right across the path of the two Syndic battleships, which concentrated their fire on the Alliance battleship and in moments mangled the warship, knocking out every system on Warrior. Geary muttered a brief prayer as he imagined the havoc that barrage had inflicted on Warrior’s crew.

That left Conqueror, Orion, and Majestic along with the few heavy cruisers, light cruisers, and destroyers accompanying them. Having watched Warrior die, Conqueror seemed frozen, staying on the same course and speed as the two Syndic battleships closed. Orion began sliding upward, then headed back for a spot close to Conqueror as if seeking the safety of a position near the undamaged battleship.

Geary would never know what Majestic started to do, whether the rearmost surviving battleship was trying to turn to engage the enemy or to flee. In charitable moments, he imagined that Majestic’s crew and commanding officer had been inspired by Warrior’s sacrifice, had finally found their spirit and tried to make up for past failures. Whatever Majestic ’s intent, her crew finally paid the price for the slow pace of repairs they had made to her weapons and defenses.

The Syndic battleships volleyed their remaining missiles at Majestic, aiming to overwhelm her defenses. Three missiles got through and hit aft, wiping out the battleship’s propulsion units. Then as Majestic spun out of control up and over, the Syndic battleships altered course to get within hell-lance range of the helpless target. Grapeshot from the Syndics collapsed Majestic’s remaining shields, then the enemy hell lances tore into inadequately repaired armor with too many weak spots.

Geary watched hits flaring repeatedly on Majestic, the image of the battleship momentarily vanishing under the flurry of impacts as more Syndic missiles, grapeshot, and an unrelenting storm of hell-lance fire tore the ship apart. Then a much bigger explosion lit space for a few moments as Majestic’s power core blew under the stress.

The light faded, leaving a growing field of debris through which a few surviving Syndic missiles quested vainly for a target.

“Damn them,” Desjani muttered. Geary didn’t know if she was referring to the Syndics who had just destroyed Majestic or the crew and officers of the Alliance battleship who had doomed themselves.

Conqueror, still fixed on the same trajectory, was lashing out at any lighter Syndic unit that came within range. Orion had drifted upward again while remaining as far forward as Conqueror, placing herself in an almost totally useless position as far as defending the auxiliaries went. The Alliance heavy cruisers, light cruisers, and destroyers had broken away from Conqueror, though, and were slashing through Syndic escorts trying to reach Titan and Goblin. The two auxiliaries were throwing out as much defensive fire as they could, which unfortunately was very little. A Syndic missile slammed into Goblin amidships, staggering the auxiliary. A HuK managed to get close enough to score two hell-lance hits on Titan before the Alliance destroyer Reprise rolled in from below and took out the HuK with several well-aimed shots.

It took Geary a moment to realize that Majestic’s death might not have been in vain. “When those Syndic battleships went for the kill on Majestic, it took them off their trajectory and slowed their intercept of Titan and Goblin.”

Desjani took a moment from maneuvering Dauntless to scan her display. “The Fifth Battleship Division might make it in time,” she agreed.

Might make it. He certainly couldn’t count on Conqueror or Orion being of any use. Geary swung his own gaze to the other side of the Syndic formation. The remaining Syndics were altering course to come around at Titan, Goblin, and beyond them Witch and Jinn. As a result, the edges of the box formation whose center had been blown away were folding inward, the four sides of the box collapsing in toward vectors aimed at the four Alliance auxiliaries.

But coming down on the same edges were the Alliance subformations centered on battleships. Captain Armus in Colossus led Amazon, Spartan, and Guardian straight toward one edge of the Syndic formation anchored on three Syndic battleships that had been mostly untouched up to this point. As the huge ships lumbered into contact, the four Alliance battleships volleyed everything they had at the leading Syndic battleship, then hit the second as they flashed past. In their wake, the Alliance battleships left the leading Syndic battleship a pile of junk and the second with significant damage. In exchange Colossus and Spartan had taken several hits, but none critical.

At the same time, the lighter units on both sides clashed, the now-superior numbers of the Alliance ships telling as Syndic light cruisers and HuKs reeled from repeated blows.

Soon afterward, Relentless, Reprisal, Superb, and Splendid wiped out the two Syndic battleships and their escorts holding another edge of the increasingly chaotic Syndic formation, battering the enemy but losing the heavy cruiser Vambrace in the exchange.

Titan took another hit, then a Syndic light cruiser made a firing run on Goblin while Alliance destroyers flashed past, trying to knock out the attacker.

A surviving Syndic heavy cruiser led two light cruisers and several HuKs straight for Titan. “Damn,” Geary whispered.

He hadn’t been watching Furious and Implacable, which had finally completed their long, wide swing through space and instead of aiming for more Syndic capital ships had focused on the closest threat to the auxiliaries. Now the two Alliance battle cruisers tore past, riddling the Syndic heavy cruiser, blowing up one light cruiser and shattering the second, while the battle cruisers’ escorts wiped out the HuKs.

“Not bad,” Desjani praised, her own battle cruiser division still curving up and around. “I told you Cresida would stick with the auxiliaries if she knew you were counting on her.”

In trying to avoid the other attacks, Orion found itself directly between Titan and Goblin and the two Syndic battleships that had annihilated Majestic. Having expended all of their remaining missiles on Majestic, the Syndic battleships were trying to close within hell-lance reach while Titan and Goblin poured on all of the acceleration the damaged auxiliaries could manage in an attempt to stay out of range.

Orion started dropping back out of the line of fire between the Syndic battleships and the auxiliaries as if she had lost propulsion, even though Geary couldn’t see any damage reported to Orion’s propulsion units. “That does it. If Commander Yin survives this battle, she’s out as commander of that ship.” His eyes focused on Conqueror, still far enough ahead of Titan and Goblin to be unable to defend them from the two Syndic battleships. “Captain Casia, too. I’ll court-martial both of their worthless asses.”

Desjani stretched her mouth in a humorless smile. “Cowardice before the enemy. You can just have them shot by order of summary execution. No one could complain with the records of this engagement as the official proof.”

At the moment, with the fate of Titan and Goblin teetering in the balance, that option sounded entirely too good to Geary. If he lost those two ships because of Casia’s and Yin’s avoidance of battle, he knew he might not be able to resist the temptation to follow Desjani’s advice.

Hell lances from the Syndic battleships began reaching out at extreme range, licking at the shields of Titan and Goblin. Geary knew the shields on the auxiliaries couldn’t long withstand the punishment that a pair of battleships could inflict even at maximum range.

Flanconade weaved between the Syndic battleships and the Alliance auxiliaries, drawing Syndic fire for the few moments needed to tear apart the Alliance destroyer.

The sacrifices and the maneuvers finally added up to a decisive number as Fearless, Resolution, Redoubtable, and Warspite came within weapons range of the two Syndic battleships. The four Alliance battleships split their fire, two hammering one Syndic battleship and the other two hitting the remaining one as the Fifth Battleship Division finally engaged the enemy.

As the Alliance battleships drew away, both Syndic battleships staggered and slowed dramatically because of blows aimed at their propulsion systems. Titan and Goblin slowly pulled out of range as the hobbled Syndics tried to keep targeting them, then Tulev’s four battle cruisers came in from another angle on their second firing run and smashed the trailing Syndic battleship.

Geary blinked, trying to take in events all through the region of battle. Desjani was leading Dauntless, Daring, and Victorious against a hurt Syndic battleship. Elsewhere, Vengeance and Revenge were bearing down on the remaining Syndic battleship that had nearly destroyed Titan and Goblin. The other Syndic battleships still capable of fighting had been stripped of their escorts and were being slammed by repeated firing passes from Geary’s subformations. The Syndic formation had completely fallen apart, replaced by a trail of damaged ships and debris leading back to where the Casualty Flotilla had once existed. The only remaining organized Syndic naval force in Lakota Star System was the guard force, a mere two battleships and two battle cruisers with their escorts, far away and heading for the hypernet gate at a fast clip. “We won.”

Dauntless’s hell lances tore into the targeted Syndic battleship, then null fields from Dauntless, Daring, and Victorious dug huge holes in the enemy vessel. Desjani let out a long breath as Dauntless left her broken enemy behind, then nodded to Geary. “Yes, sir. You did.”

We won,” Geary repeated. “This fleet won this victory, not me.”

“You did help,” Rione pointed out dryly.

Taking a deep breath, Geary called his fleet. “All ships in the Alliance fleet, general pursuit. Break formation and ensure no Syndic warships escape. Destroyers and light cruisers not engaged with the enemy are to recover escape pods from Alliance ships.”

Space in Lakota Star System was now filled with wreckage and hundreds of Syndic escape pods. Geary’s warships were pouncing on surviving but damaged Syndic warships, overwhelming them and adding to the quantity of both debris and escape pods as the remnants of the Syndic force were wiped out.

But the victory hadn’t been painless. Majestic was gone, along with the heavy cruisers Utap, Vambrace, and Fascine. The defenders of the auxiliaries had taken heavy losses. In addition to Flanconade, the light cruisers Brigandine, Carte, and Ote had been destroyed, as well as the destroyers Armlet, Kukri, Hastarii, Petard, and Spiculum. Most of the other ships in the fleet had taken various degrees of damage and lost crew members. Measured against the Syndic losses the price was insignificant, but Geary had to fight off depression as he thought of his own fleet’s dead.

“Sir, Warrior can’t be saved,” Desjani stated somberly.

He couldn’t argue that even though he wanted to debate it. Warrior had fought so well, her crew going beyond the call of duty to protect the auxiliaries. Warrior deserved to survive, to return proudly to Alliance space. But the already-damaged battleship had been riddled, its propulsion systems destroyed, every weapon knocked out, and life support left spotty throughout the hull. Looking at the readouts and images of Warrior, Geary was forcefully reminded of how the wreck of Audacious had looked. “Commander Suram,” he ordered, “you and your crew have performed in a manner that brings all possible honor to your ancestors, but Warrior is now beyond repair. Abandon ship.”

Long before a reply could have come, the communications watch called out. “We’re receiving a voice-only emergency circuit call from Warrior. It’s very weak, but we’ve enhanced it.”

Geary punched accept and listened to the message, the voice of Commander Suram oddly distorted by the electronic enhancements required to make the message understandable. “All systems are out except for emergency controls on the power core. We’re attempting a safe core shutdown. Warrior cannot continue the fight. Many escape pods damaged or destroyed in the last engagement. Those members of the crew who can be held in the surviving pods are abandoning ship. To the honor of our ancestors.”

“Continue the fight?” Geary wondered.

“With all systems out they’re blind,” Desjani answered. “They can see some explosions and signs of battle with the naked eye and the minor enhancement gear on their survival suits, but have no idea that’s just us mopping up the Syndics. We need to get some ships there to pull off the rest of Warrior ’s crew,” she added quickly, “I’d recommend-”

“Sir,” another watch-stander called in an alarmed voice. “We’re picking up indications that Warrior’s power core is fluctuating. The emergency control systems must have been damaged, too, and are failing.”

“How long until it blows?” Desjani snapped.

“Impossible to predict, Captain. It could hold until they manage a shutdown, or it could have already blown, and we haven’t seen the light from it.”

Desjani gave Geary a somber look. He nodded, knowing this was his call. Any ship trying to close on Warrior to rescue her trapped crew members would risk being caught in a core explosion. “Who were you going to recommend for crew recovery?” he asked Desjani.

“Ships from the Twentieth Destroyer Squadron,” she responded immediately. “They’re still close together and well positioned, but Warrior drifted away from the battle after she got knocked out, or rather the battle kept going and Warrior stayed about where she was. Our destroyers will require close to half an hour to get there and match speed to the wreck.”

“Okay.” Geary tapped his controls, thinking through his words. “Twentieth Destroyer Squadron, members of Warrior ’s crew are trapped on board. Warrior’s power core is fluctuating uncontrollably and may blow at any time. Request to know which destroyers in your squadron will volunteer to close Warrior and attempt to take off her remaining crew.”

The reply took only a little while, though it seemed agonizingly long. “Sir, this is Lieutenant Commander Pastak on Gavelock. Arabas, Balta, Dao, Gavelock, Kururi, Sabar, and Wairbi volunteer to assist Warrior’s crew. All ships proceeding to intercept Warrior at maximum acceleration.”

Geary checked his display. Every surviving destroyer in the squadron. “Don’t let me forget this,” he murmured to Desjani.

“I won’t,” she replied. “Did you expect anything else?”

“I don’t know. I do know I am proud as hell to command this fleet.”

“Estimated time for destroyers to reach Warrior is twenty-three minutes,” the maneuvering watch announced.

“Try to get a message through to Warrior’s survivors that the destroyers are on the way.”

“Yes, sir. We are now in communication with the escape pods launched from Warrior and will try to relay through them.”

Geary nodded almost absently, his mind’s eye too easily imagining the scene on Warrior right now, the few sailors who could work on the power core trying to keep it under control, the rest waiting in the ruin of their ship for rescue or death. “Is Commander Suram on one of the escape pods?” he asked, already guessing the answer.

“No, sir. The highest-ranking officer on one of the pods is a Lieutenant Rana, who is badly wounded.”

He felt curiously detached as he saw the symbols of the escape pods racing away from Warrior, his mind numb after all of the other losses this day. Escape pods were designed to boost rapidly away from their ship on the assumption that distance would be critical, and in this case that was certainly true. “How much longer until the escape pods are outside the estimated danger zone for Warrior’s power-core blast radius? ”

“Five minutes, sir. That’s the estimate based on the known state of Warrior’s power core and the readings we’re picking up on it.”

Seven minutes later, with the destroyers of the Twentieth Squadron still sixteen minutes away, Geary watched the image of Warrior blossom into an irregular sphere of light and debris. He confirmed that the escape pods were far enough outside the blast area to be able to ride out the shock wave, then closed his eyes, took a long, slow breath, and called Gavelock. “Lieutenant Commander Pastak, please alter your mission to recovery of the escape pods from Warrior. They were close enough to the core overload that many probably received some damage. Thank you, thank all of your ships, for your efforts.”

Pastak’s somber acknowledgment came a few minutes later, then Geary leaned back and closed his eyes again. “Sir?” Desjani whispered. He shook his head, denying any conversation. After a moment, her hand closed over his wrist and squeezed tightly for a second in wordless comfort before being withdrawn. She knew how he felt, and somehow that made it a little easier to bear.


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