Co-President Rione spoke again, her voice flat. “I hope you’re not holding your breath waiting for them to surrender.”
“No,” Geary answered. “But there’s a chance, and it’d make life a lot easier for us if they did.”
“Don’t assume the crews of those ships control their own fates,” Rione added.
Geary gave Desjani a questioning look. She seemed to not understand the co-president’s statement as well. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Rione stated, her voice grim now, “that we believe the Syndics may have a remote command override on their ships, which would allow a Syndic CEO the means to input orders directly to the combat and maneuvering systems of ships, bypassing the crews.”
“I’d heard rumors of that sort of thing,” Desjani noted, “but nothing official.”
Rione nodded to her. “Consider this an official confirmation. We don’t know this is true for certain, but there’s classified evidence available to support it. It’s a sort of doomsday option for a Syndic CEO, rarely employed because if it was used often enough, we could detect and analyze the signals, then use the same override against them.”
Geary felt a pain in his head and tried to push it away with his fingers against his forehead. “Unbelievable.” All right. Assume that’s the case, that those crews are about to be deliberately sacrificed to lure us in and even if they try to do something about it won’t be able to stop it. That means they won’t be able to stop their ships from attacking the gate tethers. But this doomsday override can’t be flexible if it tells ships exactly what to do. “If we know what the Syndics probably intend, then we can predict what orders those ships will execute.”
Desjani’s bared her teeth. “Which means we’ll know where they’re going to be.”
“Right.” Geary called up the weapons employment system and began entering assumptions. If the Syndic ships in the best shape were ordered to destroy the gate tethers, and the destruction of the gate was supposed to be timed to catch the Alliance fleet as close to the hypernet gate as possible, where would those Syndic ships go and when would they go there? The system cranked through the math and within a second projected courses and times flashed up on the display. “We can target them. Send kinetic rounds to intercept the predicted courses, kinetic rounds heavy enough to punch through their shields and take out the ships.”
Rione was frowning. “I don’t understand. You don’t normally employ such weapons against other ships.”
“No, because the ships would just see them coming and dodge.” Geary pointed. “But if the ships have been locked onto a certain trajectory and the crews can’t override those instructions, if the doomsday override doesn’t allow for enough maneuvering flexibility, we might be able to nail a few.”
“I see.” Rione nodded. “This is the only way to keep them from destroying the gate before we get to it, isn’t it?”
Geary glanced at Desjani, who nodded as well. “I think so. It’s a chance, anyway. Captain Desjani, have your weapons specialists double-check my work and set up the engagement. I want the kinetic rounds to fire automatically at the optimum point, giving us a one-minute heads-up and countdown.”
“No problem, sir.” Desjani pointed at the appropriate watch-stander, who bent to his task.
* * * *
The wave of destruction from the Alliance kinetic bombardment arrived at and swept over first the fourth planet and then, about an hour later, the third. Gazing at the highly magnified views, Geary could see explosions rippling in series across the worlds and installations orbiting them. The under-construction warships blew apart under the impacts, pieces hurled away to spin into space or get caught in the gravity well of the fourth world to tumble to their destruction. Syndic command and control centers on the planets vanished in intense flashes of light followed by towering mushroom clouds fountaining skyward. On the night-covered portions of the worlds that were visible, flickering lights from impacts rolled across the darkened surfaces in a show that would’ve been beautiful if it hadn’t represented so much destruction.
Next to the images, Dauntless’s combat systems maintained a tally of results updating so rapidly it was hard to read at times. Irritated and not sure what the escalating numbers were telling him, Geary switched the display to tell him how many targets remained active. Now the tally scrolled rapidly downward. Communications hubs. Spaceports. Major airfields. Military bases. Antiorbital defenses. Military-related industrial facilities. Stockpiles of ammunition, spare parts, and equipment. Research facilities. In orbit, graceful arrays of satellites and facilities blew apart under impacts, changing into slowly spreading masses of fragments far above the atmosphere. Beneath that cocoon of wreckage, the rain of metal projectiles fell across the two worlds, leaving tangled debris and craters in its wake.
All of the numbers for targeted installations ran down to zero. “Like shooting fish in a barrel,” Geary observed.
“More like dropping bombs into barrels full of fish,” Desjani remarked. She seemed as cheerful as usual when watching destruction being worked on Syndic targets.
“There was plenty of time for the Syndics to evacuate every one of those targets,” Rione observed. “Do we know if they did?”
Desjani shrugged. “Madam Co-President, even Dauntless can’t track that many human targets moving that far away beneath atmospheres or behind planets. We did see signs of evacuations under way, but if you’re asking whether some Syndics died in that bombardment, I frankly can’t tell you.”
“You spared some of the raw materials stockpiles,” Rione observed.
Geary nodded. “And some orbital facilities. We needed to leave the Syndics something to give us. Or rather for us to take. Since negotiations haven’t worked well in the past, I’m planning on just sending in forces to grab what we want.”
Rione gazed at Geary for a moment before answering. “That’s probably a wise move.”
He realized belatedly that his last statement could have been interpreted wrongly. “I don’t blame you at all for the Syndic failure to abide by agreements. My decision was totally based on how untrustworthy the Syndics have proven.”
Rione nodded. “Thank you, though like you, I hold myself accountable even for those things outside my power to control.”
The statement sounded like a compliment. Geary wondered why Rione had suddenly said something to him that at least sounded nice.
“In any event,” Rione continued, “I thank you for sparing civilian targets, Captain Geary.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Captain Geary,” a watch-stander announced. “Syndic Force Alpha is about to cross the projected track of Task Force Furious.”
Which actually meant that the event had taken place some hours ago, the same as the bombardment of worlds that they had just witnessed. Geary focused his display there, seeing the arcing track of Task Force Furious curving toward the fourth world, the slightly flatter arc of the Syndic flotilla’s trajectory crossing it almost a light-minute ahead of where Task Force Furious had been. “You don’t think they tried to drop mines along that track, do you?”
Desjani shrugged again. “They might have tried. Surely Commander Cresida would have prepared for that.”
She apparently had. Even before the Syndic force actually crossed the track of Task Force Furious, they could see the Alliance formation altering course, swinging farther and farther to the side. “Where the hell is she going now?” Geary wondered.
This time Desjani grinned. “Captain Geary, when you let loose a weapon like Commander Cresida and tell her to seek her own targets, you have to be prepared for some unexpected decisions.”
Geary couldn’t help laughing. “I guess since I have no idea what she’s doing next, there’s no possibility of the Syndics anticipating her moves, either.”
Velocity and momentum carried Task Force Furious a long ways in the same direction it had been going, but its course kept diverging from the original projection. By the time it reac
hed the region where the Syndic flotilla had crossed its track, Task Force Furious was several light-seconds away from where it would have been on that original course. “If the Syndics dropped mines, they were wasted,” Desjani observed. “The region of space they would’ve had to cover is too huge.”
Task Force Furious kept turning, now also diving below the plane of the system, forming a huge spiral as its ships came around through a full circle, only steadying up again when the task force was headed for the almost-completed Syndic battleship and battle cruiser that had been towed away from the orbital bombardment. Far beyond, Syndic Force Alpha was still charging across the Sancere Star System, putting tremendous distance between itself and the Alliance task force.
One half hour later, Geary watched as Task Force Furious swept by the already battered shipyards, taking out some unstruck targets with precision hell-lance fire. Ten minutes after that, as the Syndic tugs dropped their lines and ran frantically for safety, Task Force Furious tore apart the under-construction battleship and battle cruiser that the tugs had tried to save, the lightest units in the task force swinging farther out to blow apart the fleeing tugs as easily as if they were swatting flies.
Geary tore his attention away from Cresida’s task force, knowing that whatever it did now was irrelevant to the ultimate outcome of the battle for Sancere system. That rested ahead of them, where Syndic Force Bravo still waited, unmoving, near the hypernet gate.
One and a half hours until contact, assuming the Syndics didn’t stage a last minute charge and close the distance more rapidly.
Less than two hours, almost certainly, before everyone in the Sancere Star System discovered what happened when a hypernet gate was destroyed.
“Captain Desjani,” Geary asked, “why hasn’t anyone tried to destroy a hypernet gate before this? I know from the records of the war I’ve reviewed that star systems near enemy territory that contain gates have been attacked and captured. Why haven’t the gates in those systems been destroyed?”
Desjani appeared surprised by the question. “The enemy couldn’t use a friendly gate. This is the first time an enemy force has had a key to the other side’s hypernet.”
“Yes, but the enemy could still use their own gate to send in reinforcements quickly or mount a counterattack aimed at retaking the system.”
“Yes, sir.” Desjani seemed to think that didn’t require explanation.
The reason dawned on Geary. He hadn’t been thinking like these modern fighters. “You want the enemy forces to show up.”
“Of course, Captain Geary. The point of offensive actions is to engage and destroy the enemy,” Desjani explained as if discussing something everyone knew. “Anything that makes it easier for enemy forces to arrive for combat furthers the goal of bringing the enemy to battle. A functioning enemy gate offers a guaranteed battlefield.”
“Of course.” Strip war down to its most basic element, and that was it. Kill the enemy. Looked at that way, it made perfect sense to leave the enemy hypernet gate intact, because that meant more enemies could be counted upon to arrive, and then you could try to kill them. Thanks to that functioning hypernet gate, the enemy would be reinforcing faster than you, but that just meant more targets. No wonder they’ve taken such losses. It’s not just the loss of battle-fighting expertise, it’s an attitude that places killing above winning. They’d forgotten that winning smart can kill more enemies than slugging it out toe-to-toe.
Geary studied his fleet formation for perhaps the one hundredth time in the last few hours. How did you best deal with a massively outnumbered enemy force that wanted your fleet to get close? He kept coming up with the same answer, even though it wasn’t foolproof. “We’ll have to split the fleet formation.”
Desjani nodded, betraying no concern.
Geary made a decision, knowing he could otherwise spend endless time debating with himself because there wasn’t any single obviously right way to do this. He worked the controls, setting up formations that broke the main body of the fleet into six sections, each composed of a mix of capital ships and escorts.
“Six?” Desjani asked, finally surprised.
“Yes. I want to avoid giving the Syndics the concentrated target they want. I also want to be able to employ our firepower against them, which I can’t if we’re in formations so much larger than our targets that a lot of our units are out of contact.” Geary hesitated, then mashed the control sending the orders to the fleet. “All units in the Alliance fleet, this is Captain Geary. New formation assignments are en route to your units. Formation execution will be at time two zero. I intend having each formation conducting passes against Syndic Force Bravo until it either flees the area of the hypernet gate or is destroyed.”
Desjani studied the information on her own display, eyes narrowed in thought. “Six formations. Each swinging past the Syndics in turn before arching out and coming around again. Like a huge wheel. We’ll simply pound them to pieces if they don’t move.”
“That’s the idea,” Geary agreed.
“You’ve put Dauntless back in Formation Delta,” Desjani observed.
“Yes.” He could tell Desjani was a bit miffed about that, about being fourth in line. “I think the Syndics are going to hold out for the first three passes. By the time the fourth formation approaches, which will be Delta, I believe they’ll do something. I want to have Dauntless there when they do.” Desjani smiled, as did the watch-standers on the bridge. Geary felt slightly guilty, knowing he’d also held Dauntless back because of the likelihood that the Syndics wouldn’t survive the first three formation passes and he was duty-bound to get Dauntless and the Syndic hypernet key safely home to Alliance space. Odds were that Dauntless would only be sweeping up the remnants of the Syndics.
Unless things went very badly and the Syndics started taking down that hypernet gate. In which case, key on board or not, Geary knew he had to be close to the scene.
“Kinetic rounds inbound,” the weapons watch announced in an almost bored voice. They’d already easily dodged a half-dozen attempts to target them, seeing the rounds approaching from such a long distance that the tiniest course correction or change in speed guaranteed a miss. “Origin from hypernet gate defenses.”
“We’ll give them something to worry about soon enough,” Desjani observed gleefully.
Geary briefly wondered what Captain Desjani would do for fun if the war somehow ended, and smashing Syndics was no longer an acceptable way to pass the time.
Dauntless’s maneuvering systems kicked in at time two zero, shoving her mass down and over to the place where she’d wait for the rest of Formation Delta to form around her. All around Dauntless the other ships of the fleet broke from the positions they’d held, as if an incredibly huge machine had just disassembled itself into component parts. The parts swung through space, weaving intricate patterns as they headed for new positions, the massive machine reassembling itself into six new machines, each a smaller version of the big machine they’d all once made up.
It took time for all of those ships to move across those distances, forming up so that the last formation in line was several light-minutes behind the first. The reassembly hadn’t quite finished when the weapons watch called out again. “Weapons system recommends launching kinetic rounds at Syndic Force Bravo in one minute.”
Geary nodded. “Do it.”
Geary’s rearrangement of the ships in the fleet had required the weapons system to rethink which ship should launch projectiles at what, but that required much less than a second of calculations. At exactly the optimum time, ships began automatically firing the barrage at the Syndic defenders of the hypernet gate.
Only three light-minutes still separated the leading Alliance ships from the Syndic defenders of the hypernet gate. At a velocity of .1 light, that meant thirty minutes, perhaps the longest half hour Geary thought he would ever experience. Talk about relativistic distortion. Time itself seemed to have slowed to a crawl.
“Syndic defenders conduc
ting evasive maneuvers to dodge incoming kinetic rounds,” the weapons watch reported. “Systems report four of the Syndic battleships are changing their positions along predicted tracks.”
“They’re doing it,” Desjani murmured. “Just like you thought, Captain Geary.”
“Let’s see if they’ve got enough control of their ships to dodge,” he cautioned, feeling his guts tightening.
“Formation Alpha commencing firing pass on Syndic defenders. Syndic forces are firing.”
Geary centered his display on the action. Alliance destroyers and light cruisers swept in on either side, hammering the defensive units near the gate. With powerful shields, the units managed to shrug off the fire of the lighter units, but then heavy cruisers came past, tossing grapeshot out in tight firing patterns and following with barrages from their hell-lance batteries. The metal ball bearings of the grapeshot hit the weakened defensive shields, vaporizing on impact; then the charged particle spears fired by the hell-lance batteries ripped on through. Defensive unit after defensive unit reeled under hits, blown out of position and knocked out of action by impacts.
Meanwhile, the big warships in the center of Alliance Formation Alpha tore past the center of Syndic Force Bravo, the heavily damaged enemy battleships and battle cruisers still holding station opposite the center of the gate. The Alliance battleships Fearless, Resolution, Redoubtable, and Warspite hammered the hapless Syndics as they each passed closest to the enemy. The battleships had chosen to hold off firing grapeshot or specter missiles, depending instead on the massive hell-lance batteries they carried. Weak Syndic defensive fire glanced harmlessly from the battleships’ powerful shields, while volleys from the Alliance ships tore into the already battered Syndics. First one battleship blew up, then another, then two battle cruisers, leaving a single crippled battle cruiser holding the center of the Syndic formation.
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