Fearless tlf-2

by Jack Campbell

  “And,” Desjani added, “since the Syndic plan clearly requires them to come in fast, maintaining close to point two light as long as they can before braking hard to engage Gamma, relativistic distortion is going to make it very difficult for them to see the mines, especially since it’s not a single, dense minefield but a diffuse series of strings.”

  Now it was just a matter of watching again. Everyone remained several hours away from any contact, the representations of the various formations seeming to crawl through the display of Sancere Star System. Geary took advantage of the time to arrange his formation for what he expected would work best. Assuming the Syndics would seek to avoid a fight with him, Geary arranged his ships in a rectangular block, the battleships and battle cruisers clustered by divisions down the center, the escorts around the outside. If he only got one firing pass, he wanted to ensure his heaviest units could all hit the Syndics in succession.

  Increasingly restless, Geary finally stood up. “I’m going to walk around the ship.” The crew undoubtedly thought his walks were a sign of his interest in them, and they certainly were that, but at times like this, the walks were also a way to work out nervousness and kill time during the long, slow approach to combat.

  The crew members he met all seemed tired from the long days at increased alert while in Sancere Star System, but cheerful and confident. The hopeful and certain expressions they turned on Geary still had a tendency to unnerve him, since he knew how fallible he really was, but at least he also knew he hadn’t let them down yet. As he walked around, Geary noticed crew members looking past him as if expecting to see someone with him, and realized they were looking for Co-President Rione, even though none of them mentioned her. That was a little unnerving, too.

  At some point, he went past the worship area and walked into the area set aside for ancestors, entering one of the small rooms and lighting a candle before saying a brief prayer. The living stars knew he needed all of the help he could get. But tempting as it was to linger and speak for a while to the one audience he felt sure of, his dead ancestors, Geary knew he couldn’t hide in here while the fleet headed for battle.

  All of that didn’t kill nearly enough time. Geary confirmed that nothing had changed in the situation, everybody rushing toward their respective intercept points and the Syndics still closing in on the path to the mines, then forced himself to go by the meal areas and pretend to eat. Most of what they had now was Syndic rations looted from places like Kaliban and now Sancere. The best thing about the Syndic food, Geary and the sailors he spoke with agreed, was that it made the usual fleet food seem good by comparison. “If we offered the Syndics decent meals, they’d probably surrender in droves,” one of the sailors suggested as she choked down something that was apparently supposed to be hash, though made up of unidentifiable meat and some very odd looking potatoes with the texture and taste of blocks of cardboard.

  Geary returned to the bridge. Rione wasn’t there, and Desjani was asleep in her chair again. A captain who spent that much time on the bridge could drive her crew insane, but Desjani wasn’t a screamer or a micromanager, so her presence didn’t wear on her watch-standers. She woke up as Geary entered and nodded to him. “One more hour until the Syndics reach the first mines. They’re still heading right down the chute.”

  “When do you think they’ll start braking?” Geary asked.

  “In about half an hour. That’ll leave them a very slight margin for error.” Desjani indicated the projected track on the display. “If they brake too early, they’ll slide off the path to the mines, but we’ll have a much better shot at catching them with this formation. But if they want to hit Formation Gamma, they’ll have to start braking at this point.”

  Geary settled in, relaxing as best he could. To kill time, he began rechecking the supplies the fleet had picked up here at Sancere, and how the auxiliaries were doing on manufacturing replacement items. There had been a lot of maneuvering here in Sancere, burning through fuel cells, so Geary tossed off a quick message to Captain Tyrosian on Witch to make sure new fuel cells were a priority. All of the grapeshot, mines, and missiles in the world wouldn’t provide enough help to ships that couldn’t maneuver.

  Co-President Rione returned, surveying the bridge of the Dauntless, Captain Desjani, and Captain Geary with her usual unruffled and challenging attitude. Nodding in greeting, Geary realized there was little chance of him ever accidentally calling her Victoria while on the bridge. The Co-President Rione who occupied the observer’s seat on the bridge might look like the Victoria who shared Geary’s bed, but her attitude was so different that she seemed to really be another person, one who retained distance and distrust toward Captain Geary. I did ask her to stay challenging, after all. But I have a feeling she’d be like this whether I’d asked it of her or not.

  Desjani also nodded in almost-friendly greeting. Being involved with Geary had clearly made Rione more trustworthy in Desjani’s eyes, though he suspected Rione would react pretty negatively to the idea. He certainly wasn’t going to mention it to her. But then she probably already had realized that, which might be contributing to the frosty way Rione was treating Geary on the bridge. Maybe he should put off mentioning to Rione that the crew seemed to be expecting to see them together. Or maybe she wanted to be seen with him, to make as public a spectacle as possible of their association.

  Geary turned back to the much less complicated situation playing out between the Syndic flotilla and his five formations. His display indicated every Alliance ship had come to full battle readiness. He and thousands of other officers and sailors had nothing to do for a while yet but watch the time scroll down to the moments when the Syndics would encounter the first mines.

  The Syndics pivoted up and over in place almost exactly when predicted, bringing their propulsion units to face forward so they could brake the Syndic formation’s velocity down to engagement speed. A few minutes later, Geary saw Formation Gamma increase speed a fraction to move the Syndic track to intercept exactly back onto the path through the mines. Surely the Syndics would get suspicious? But, perhaps because they were fixed on their intended targets, the Syndics adjusted their course just as the Alliance needed them to.

  Fifteen more minutes crawled by. “Here they come,” Desjani murmured.

  The intricate maneuvers that had set up the trap had sent ships or formations across the space the Syndic flotilla was now braking through. The result hadn’t been so much a minefield as a lattice made up of multiple rows and strings of mines spread across light-seconds of distance along the track. The Syndic warships were now rushing stern first into the area holding those mines. Any hits would fall on their main propulsion units aft, which was exactly where the Alliance wanted those hits to strike.

  The Syndic formation braked through the first two lines of mines without encountering any. Frustrating, but the odds didn’t favor a lot of hits. The third line lay right across their path.

  A Syndic HuK took a direct hit on the stern. The mine collapsed the rear shields and blew the HuK’s propulsion units, leaving it unable to maneuver. One of the battle cruisers took two hits, losing a single propulsion unit. There was a pause as the Syndics swept onward, until they hit where the fourth and fifth lines crossed. This time several hits sparked on the Syndic ships, sending a heavy cruiser stumbling out of formation and taking out a couple of propulsion units on another battle cruiser.

  By this time the Syndics had figured out they were running into something. The most effective counter would be to pivot their ships so they were facing forward and would take any further hits on their bows. But pivoting would mean the warships couldn’t use their main propulsion systems to brake anymore, which would prevent them from slowing enough to intercept Formation Gamma. Geary had guessed that the Syndic leader would chose to continue taking occasional hits rather than give up the chance to strike the Alliance ships in Gamma. If the Syndics had hit all the mines at once and sustained the damage in a single burst, it probably would’ve caused
the leader to call off the attack, but instead the hits kept coming in ones and twos, adding up in a way that the Syndic commander might well miss until too late while focus remained on the Alliance warships in Gamma.

  More hits occurred as the Syndics encountered successive lines of mines, each one doing a little more damage, weakening even the shields on the battleships. By this time the Syndic commander had to be worried. The damaged ships were already losing their places in formation and might have to be left behind when the Syndic flotilla accelerated away after hitting Gamma.

  “Captain Tulev has fired specters,” Desjani observed. “It looks like he’s firing every specter he’s got. They’ll intercept the Syndic formation just as it’s clearing the last string of mines.”

  “Good move,” Geary agreed.

  A final flurry of three mine strikes marked the last string of mines, then the Syndic ships were sweeping down on Formation Gamma with no more obstacles between them. Moments later the specters from Gamma flashed into contact. The high relative speed caused some to miss, but others hammered at ships that in many cases had already seen their shields drained by mine hits and hadn’t recovered yet. Another battle cruiser took hits to its propulsion systems, another HuK vanished into a ball of debris, and two of the remaining heavy cruisers were badly battered. Even better, two of the battleships lost a couple of propulsion units.

  “Adjust course as necessary to intercept the Syndics,” Geary ordered Desjani, passing the same command to Captain Duellos in Formation Bravo. The rest of the ships in the formation would conform to Dauntless’s moves as Desjani made minor adjustments to course and speed to manage the best intercept.

  “We’ll have to start braking ourselves, soon,” she advised.

  Geary checked his display and nodded. “All units in Formation Delta, adjust ships’ headings one hundred eighty degrees now.” That would bring the Alliance ships around so their main propulsion units faced aft. “Begin braking down to point one light at time three one.”

  Tulev had formed his battle cruisers facing the Syndics and close around Goblin, making as close to a physical shield for Goblin as it was possible to construct. The Syndic formation, though increasingly spread out as damaged ships fell out of position, was still aiming for intercept and still had more than twice the firepower available to Tulev’s forces.

  Geary blinked, trying to understand what he had just seen.

  Desjani was grinning broadly. “Brilliant!”

  Tulev had pivoted his ships and accelerated at maximum when it was too late for the Syndics to react but just in time to throw off the Syndic intercept. The maneuver had required perfect timing, and Tulev had carried it off. He’d also thrown a barrage of grapeshot at the leading Syndic ships, which were firing on the place Tulev’s ships should have been if they hadn’t changed speed, only belatedly shifting aim to target the actual positions of the Alliance warships. The two leading battleships seemed to flare incandescent as the Alliance grapeshot hit their shields in a concentrated volley. “He got them!” Desjani exulted as Dauntless’s sensors provided damage reports that both battleships had been badly hurt.

  But that left a lot of Syndic capital ships rolling past Tulev’s formation. The shields on the Alliance battle cruisers around Goblin sparked and flashed with hits as the Syndic battleships poured fire onto them. “Leviathan has taken several hits,” a watch-stander reported. “Dragon has lost two propulsion units and main maneuvering control. Steadfast reports hell-lance batteries one alpha and three alpha out of commission and numerous hits. Valiant has taken serious damage amidships but is continuing to fire.”

  Geary clenched his fists, trying not to think of the sailors dying on those battle cruisers. If he lost one or more of the battle cruisers, it would be a bitter price for whatever losses were inflicted on the Syndics.

  “Most of the Syndic capital ships have passed out of range of Formation Gamma,” a watch-stander reported.

  It dawned on Geary as he read the updates on damage to his battle cruisers that they had been saved by the damage inflicted on the Syndics earlier as a result of mines, specters, and grapeshot. The cumulative effect of those hits had spread out the Syndic formation so that their fire wasn’t concentrated on the battle cruisers in one short, overwhelming barrage but rather dispersed enough to allow the screens on the Alliance ships to hold longer than they would have otherwise. “What about Goblin?”

  “Several hits, none critical.”

  Geary let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Tulev’s battle cruisers had hit back as the Syndics roared past, inflicting more damage. And unlike the Alliance warships, the Syndics didn’t have massive reinforcements rushing to the scene. They had to run, but many of them couldn’t run fast enough anymore.

  Unfortunately, plenty of them could still run.

  Geary made a fist and softly pounded the arm of his chair. He had occasionally wondered why that part of the chair’s arm didn’t have controls on it and finally realized it had been deliberately left bare so that frustrated and worried commanders could beat on it. “He’s still got five battleships with only minor damage and three heavy cruisers.” The Syndic formation was stretching out as the warships with full propulsion capability accelerated away from the damaged units. “We can’t catch those. Blast.”

  “We won’t have to,” Desjani stated in a flat voice. “Unless I miss my guess.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She pointed at the front of the Syndic formation. “There’s a commander out there who’s now lost half of their force, or will once we catch those damaged ships. The remaining units won’t be able to threaten us enough to prevent us from completing whatever we want to do in this star system. That commander knows the best fate they can hope for is a labor camp. A firing squad is more likely, though we’ve heard of punishments that amount to torturing someone to death under the guise of ‘volunteering for medical research’ and other euphemisms.”

  Geary studied the display. “You think that commander will choose death in battle?”

  “Or at least fighting to the death of their ships. It might not seem the best option, unless you’re a commander facing death anyway.” Desjani gestured again. “There they go.” The undamaged and lightly damaged battleships were braking, falling back to rejoin their damaged sisters. “Despairing or not,” Desjani acknowledged, “it’s a brave move by all of those ships.”

  Hearing Desjani describe Syndics as brave startled Geary. She was starting to think of the enemy as human. He would have to warn her that such feelings could help her understand the enemy’s actions but also make it harder to do what needed to be done. Like killing the brave sailors on those brave ships.

  Intercept points were updating rapidly on his maneuvering display as the Syndics’ speed dropped lower. “I’m going to bring this formation across the bottom of the Syndics and have Formation Bravo come across the top here. They should be able to hit the Syndics about fifteen minutes after our pass. We’ll come around and hit them again after that.” Geary gave the orders, angling Formation Delta slightly to port and down, telling Formation Bravo to also turn to port a bit and angle up.

  Tulev had sent his escorts after the departing enemy, and now one of the damaged Syndic heavy cruisers at the rear of the formation blew up under the fire of the Alliance light forces snapping at the heels of the Syndics. Geary frowned, studying the movements of the Syndic battleships. “Task Force Gamma, get your escorts back. They’re going to be facing battleships soon unless they break contact. Have them take up position outside of enemy effective range, ready to hit any units that fall back outside the protection of the rest of the force.” Like wolves racing behind a fleeing herd, ready to pull down any animal that faltered.

  But it would be several minutes yet before the escorts got that message. Hopefully the Syndic attempt to concentrate their formation would take longer than that.

  The Syndics were settling into a roughly cubical formation when Geary took Formation Delta
beneath them, unleashing an avalanche of fire on the ships on the bottom of the enemy force. Two damaged battle cruisers were riddled and three battleships took heavy damage, while the heavy cruisers and few surviving HuKs simply disintegrated under the Alliance fire.

  Fifteen minutes later, as Geary was bringing Formation Delta around in a wide curve, Formation Bravo swung across the top of the Syndic formation, smashing two battleships and one of the remaining battle cruisers.

  Geary pressed his communications controls as Formation Delta steadied on another firing pass. “Commander of the Syndic flotilla under attack, your situation is hopeless. Surrender your ships. You and your crews will be treated in accordance with the laws of war.”

  There wasn’t any answer, but Geary hadn’t expected one. As Desjani had said, the Syndic commander had likely decided that death in battle was preferable to the fate his superiors were likely to inflict.

  The Syndic cube was shrinking into a flat square, its speed reduced even more as less damaged ships slowed to stay with their damaged sisters, when the second pass from Formation Delta ripped through it and left only two battleships functional. The second pass from Formation Bravo finished them, smashing the remnants of Syndic Force Alpha into scrap. As Formation Bravo drew away, one of the broken Syndic battleships blew up from a core overload.

  Geary blew out a long breath, gazing at the cloud of escape pods heading for refuge. “What do you think the odds are that the Syndic commander went down with that last battleship?” he asked no one in particular.

  Desjani just nodded.

  Rione gestured toward the display, which showed Alliance ships closing on the Syndic wrecks to ensure they were all completely destroyed and unsalvageable by the Syndics. “Congratulations on your victory, Captain Geary.”