“If we did strike a minefield, there’s no telling which ships might get hit,” Geary added, “and the higher impact velocity would increase the force of the mines.”
Rione stared past him for a moment, her brow furrowed in annoyance. He didn’t have to say openly that Dauntless could be the victim of such a mine strike, and Dauntless had to get home. “What’s your plan then?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You knew we were likely to encounter the Syndics here. You must have planned something.”
Geary felt a familiar headache starting, while, unseen by Rione, Desjani rolled her eyes. “Madam Co-President, I knew I’d probably find the Syndics here, but I didn’t know in what strength or how they’d be positioned. Unless we found them waiting at the jump exit and had to fight right off the bat, I knew I’d have to develop a plan once I saw the situation.”
“How long will that take?” Rione pressed.
“Madam Co-President, has anyone ever told you that sometimes you can be extremely demanding?”
She smiled with mock sweetness. “Thank you for the compliment. But we were talking about your plan, not me.”
“I’ll let you know. We’ve got time to think, and I won’t waste that.” Geary stood up and nodded to Desjani. “We’ll stay on course for the jump point for Padronis. I’m going to walk around and think a bit. If you get any ideas, or the Syndics react to our presence, give me a hail.”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave Desjani a suspicious look, but this once “yes, sir” appeared to mean nothing but that.
Geary walked the passageways of Dauntless, returning salutes and greetings from the crew almost absentmindedly as he thought. The basic problem was that the Syndics had been learning and adapting to his tactics. He couldn’t count on any more brainless charges straight for the center of the Alliance formation that would allow the Alliance fleet to bring to bear all of its firepower just where Geary wanted it.
There were ways around that, ways to confuse and out-maneuver the Syndics, but all of those ways required more use of fuel cells. A fleet wasn’t supposed to find itself in a situation where fuel-cell reserves were so low. But like many other things that weren’t supposed to happen, he had to deal with that reality.
His steps took him through many passageways, across the width of the ship more than once, past living areas and hell-lance batteries, and no inspiration struck. Neither did Desjani call with some concept that might work. He thought that in some ways she still had too much confidence in him, too much certainty that the great Black Jack Geary would manage with the help of the living stars to pull yet another rabbit out of his hat just when that rabbit was desperately needed.
Finally, Geary paused, took his bearings, and headed for the one place where he might receive wisdom beyond that of anyone in the fleet.
Down here, as deep within Dauntless as any compartment could be, as well protected as any part of the ship, were the small rooms where comfort and guidance could be sought. Geary didn’t know for certain why he’d come here now. It never hurt for the crew to see their fleet commander displaying proper piety, but anything that might smack of public displays of worship had always bothered him. It could also backfire if the fleet concluded that he was not so much pious as desperate for advice. Especially since there was some truth to that.
Geary closed the door and sat in one of the tiny, private rooms on the traditional wooden bench, his eyes fixed on the flickering flame of the candle he had lit to help warm the spirits of his ancestors. “As far as I know,” he finally said out loud, “none of you were legendary military commanders. I’m still not sure how I got stuck with the title. The odds are against us here, the fleet’s fuel supplies are so low that I can’t afford fancy tricks to sucker the Syndics, and the enemy has clearly been studying what I’ve been doing in battles and are trying to counter that. I fear that the best outcome here would be a bloody engagement in which this fleet would be victorious but decimated. The worst outcome . . .”
He shrugged. “I need something new. Something unexpected. The only thing I can think of that the logistics situation would allow is surprising the enemy with an attack in the style this fleet had grown accustomed to, straight into the teeth of the Syndic flotilla. But even if that worked, the cost could be huge. My battle cruisers can’t take that kind of engagement on top of the damage they’re already carrying, and I don’t have enough battleships to form a shield for the battle cruisers.”
Geary sat for a while, watching the candle grow shorter. “Too bad I can’t just throw the battleships at the Syndics, but even they need support against that much Syndic firepower. The battle cruisers would have to be right beside them even though it doesn’t make sense for them to charge into that kind of hornet’s nest. But I’ve already seen that my battle-cruiser captains will still do that even against orders because they think their honor requires it. I need the battle cruisers to avoid direct charges at the enemy, I need to hit the Syndics with my battleships, and I need to keep the Syndics guessing. But how do I do all of that, especially without complicating the battle beyond my ability to control it? I lost the bubble at Cavalos, let myself get overwhelmed by the complexity of the battle and couldn’t make any decisions for far too long. If that happens here, the results could be a lot worse. I need some different approach.”
A different approach. How to build it? What were his advantages? Not numbers, not firepower, not munitions, not fuel. No friendly bases within reach. Ship for ship, the Syndic warships were roughly comparable to their Alliance counterparts, although Syndic Hunter-Killers were significantly smaller and less capable than Alliance destroyers. But then the Syndics tended to have superior numbers of HuKs on hand because they were smaller and cheaper. The Alliance warships had a lot better onboard capability for damage control and repair, but even that required time for repairs to be made before the Syndics hit a badly damaged Alliance ship again.
It took a minute to come up with an advantage for the Alliance fleet. The quality of my sailors is superb. They’re more experienced than has been the norm in the last several decades since crews tended to die before they acquired too much skill. But I’ve kept mine alive.
Most of them.
And they’ll fight like hell, and they’ll fight to the death. Some of my subordinates are also good leaders. All of the ship commanders will listen to me now. I can count on their carrying out my orders. Within limits. He paused, trying to come up with something else, then remembered the Syndic guard flotilla destroying the hypernet gate at Lakota when the Alliance fleet was light-hours distant. And the Syndics are scared of me. Admit it. It’s an advantage for us. They expect me to do something unexpected, to do things that no one else can do.
How to use that? What unexpected things are still left to try with the force limitations I have to deal with? Too bad I can’t figure out a smart way to fight the kind of battle this fleet was used to fighting before I took command, charging straight into the enemy. After watching me command engagements at stars from Kaliban to Cavalos, the Syndics would never expect . . .
Can I do that?
He watched the candle flame dance, ideas swirling through his mind. There might be a way. It wouldn’t be cost-free in terms of fuel cells, but it wouldn’t cost nearly as much as any alternatives, if the ships and the maneuvering systems can handle it, and if I can construct the necessary orders before we reach the Syndics.
And if Desjani doesn’t kill me when she finds out what my plan would mean for Dauntless.
Thank you, ancestors. I heard you.
Rising, Geary bowed toward the candle, snuffed it out, and hurried toward his stateroom. He had a lot of simulator work to do.
IT took a while. He had to keep trying different approaches, and the maneuvers were far too complicated for any human to have worked out unaided by the fleet combat systems. When he viewed the resulting maneuvering commands, the dizzying mix of vector and speed changes didn’t produce any coherent picture at
all. But when he ran the commands for the final product through the simulator, the results looked right even though his professional experience and training cringed at the idea of so many ships weaving through each other at high speed immediately prior to contact with the enemy. Still, everything was within the performance capabilities of his ships, even the lumbering fleet auxiliaries and the damaged warships because he’d minimized their required changes in courses and speeds.
He could imagine how his old instructors would have reacted to his plan. The concept is far too simple and the execution far too complicated. His protests that it was the best option left to him would have produced stern lectures to avoid getting into situations where the best option was something like this. Which advice was all very well in theory or peacetime practice, but the real universe, a century of war, and the long retreat from the Syndic home star system had left him this harsh practical reality to deal with.
He checked the time and the location of the Syndics, for once grateful for the long delays caused by the huge distances in space. Desjani had called to tell him that once the Syndics had seen the arrival of the Alliance fleet four hours after it exited the jump point, the enemy flotilla had turned onto a vector that would intercept the Alliance warships if they continued toward the jump point for Padronis. A light-hour behind them, the smaller enemy flotilla had eventually turned onto a similar course. Both Syndic formations had held their velocity to point zero eight light speed, the same velocity at which the Alliance fleet was moving, the forces closing on each other the entire time in which Geary thought and ran simulations. At a combined closing rate of point one six light speed, the Alliance fleet and the Syndic flotilla would require about twenty more hours to come into contact.
The downside of the Syndic decision to hold their velocity to point zero eight light was that they were obviously trying to improve their chances of getting good hits in when the fleets clashed. They were willing to wait a little while to ensure maximizing damage on the Alliance fleet.
Geary sat down, calling up the commands for the battle and reviewing them again anxiously before calling Dauntless ’s bridge. “Please tell Captain Desjani that her presence is requested in my stateroom.”
He waited, watching the enemy, wondering how these Syndics would maneuver to contact and during the battle, until his hatch alert chimed and he allowed Desjani to enter.
Her eyes went immediately to the display above the table. “What’s the plan?” Desjani asked. From the look of her, she’d reined in her curiosity as long as she could.
“It’s . . . complicated.” True enough. Especially once Desjani saw where Dauntless would be when the fleets clashed.
“I can check it.”
“I’d appreciate it if you did.” He grimaced, not happy with knowing how she’d react. “I’m trying something new.” Geary fell silent, gazing at the display.
“All right, sir,” Desjani finally said. “That’s not a problem. But if you want my input, I need to see the maneuvering plan.”
Just as he’d once been told, when Desjani locked on a target she didn’t let go. Besides, he did want her input. Best to get it over with now. “Okay. I just caution you again that this is a new approach.”
She was obviously puzzled. Geary looked down, sighed, then punched the commands to play out the intended maneuvers during the initial encounter with the Syndics. Desjani watched, her eyes widening with disbelief as the Alliance fleet’s formation dissolved into an apparently chaotic swarm as it approached contact with the enemy. As the warships of the Alliance fleet re-formed at the last moment, she watched intently, then her expression froze. “You’re—” She didn’t seem to breathe for a moment before speaking in a tone so flat it sounded almost lifeless. “Sir, I must respectfully inquire as to whether I or my ship have lost your confidence.”
“No. Not at all.”
“Sir, this plan—”
“Will allow the battleships to do what they do best.”
Desjani’s face reddened. “Battle cruisers do not go into combat behind other ships! We lead the way!”
“Not this time.” He could see how tightly her hands were clenching into fists. “Captain Desjani, I need to hit the Syndics in a way they don’t expect without getting my own fleet wiped out in the process. I am not putting the battle cruisers in a secondary position in this engagement. Run the next set of commands.”
She didn’t look at him as she did so, then took in a long breath. “As you say, this is an unusual plan.”
“That’s the idea.”
“I understand why you don’t wish to communicate this to the other battle cruisers in advance. They’ll be extremely unhappy. As am I. But I will follow my orders, Captain Geary.” Desjani seemed slightly mollified but still sullen, and didn’t look at him.
“Thank you, Captain Desjani. I would not wish to be on any ship but Dauntless in any circumstances.” She didn’t respond, and he wondered if he should say more, but he’d said what he believed. “Do you think the plan is sound?”
He could see her trying to control her emotional reactions, trying to focus on the plan as an abstract. “If our ships can actually carry out these maneuvers in the time and distance allotted, then it will certainly surprise the Syndics . . . as much as it does some of our own ships.”
“The maneuvering systems say our ships can do it.”
“In theory.” She gave Geary a hard look. “This will have to be done totally on automatic controls. No ship-handler in the fleet could possibly execute this without disastrous results.”
“I understand.”
“Sir, please, Dauntless can be farther forward.”
“She will be when we split the formation. Tanya, it’s one lousy firing run. How many battles have we fought on this ship together? How many times has Dauntless led the way, held the center of the formation while the Syndics aimed right at us?”
Desjani kept her head bowed, glaring at the deck. “I don’t suppose I should have expected you to understand.”
“Dammit, Tanya, in a perfect world I’d bend the heavens to make you happy, but I have responsibilities to this fleet and to the Alliance. This would be one hell of a lot easier if I was on any other ship talking to any other captain, but I can’t let my personal feelings dictate this decision.” Desjani stiffened, and he gritted his teeth. His last statement could refer to professional respect and friendship, but could also be seen as a careless allusion to something neither he nor she could admit to, talk about, or base any actions on. Geary refocused his argument onto impersonal reality. “Dauntless has to make it home, because Dauntless carries the Syndic hypernet key, and that can’t be duplicated until we reach Alliance space. I cannot put Dauntless in a position that would virtually guarantee her destruction. Nor do I have to, since no one could possibly claim that Dauntless and her commander have been anything but honorable and in the forefront of every fight.”
She stayed quiet for a while, then glanced sidelong at him. “You’d bend the heavens?”
Startled, Geary nodded. “If I could.”
“I may hold you to that.” Desjani straightened and saluted. “Dauntless will do her duty, as will her captain. It’s a good plan, sir. It’ll surprise the enemy, and more importantly, it should hurt them.”
“Thanks.” He returned the salute, sighing with relief as Desjani left.
Though he did feel a twinge of worry as he wondered just what “hold you to that” might mean.
“I assume you now have a plan?” Rione asked.
Geary, once more seated in the fleet command position on Dauntless’s bridge, turned to nod at her. “It’s a surprise.”
“Wonderful, but apparently it’s intended as a surprise to your own ships as well as those of the enemy?”
“To some extent.”
“Since we’re less than an hour from contact, I suppose we’ll all find out what you intend before much longer.” Desjani was maintaining a poker face, but it appeared even that gave something away to Ri
one. “Those of us who aren’t already in your confidence that is.” Rione settled back, looking outwardly unconcerned.
Desjani waited a few minutes, then leaned close to Geary to speak inside his privacy bubble. “I need to apologize to you.”
“No, you don’t. I expected your reaction to be a lot worse, if you want to know the truth.”
“That’s not what I mean.” She glanced toward Rione. “I wondered if you’d held Dauntless back at her urging, to keep the Syndic key safe. I should have realized you wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry for thinking it.”
“That’s all right. Now keep your head in the game, Tanya. This is going to be a tough one. I need you at your best.”
“You always get my best, sir.” She grinned and settled back into her captain’s seat.
Half an hour to contact. Twelve hours ago Geary had deliberately set up the Alliance formation as virtually a mirror image of the Syndics’, with four subformations flanking a central subformation. He’d have to move soon, but not too soon. The Syndics had held their own course and speed, swinging in toward a head-on encounter with the Alliance fleet’s own central formation even though they surely expected Geary to make some last-minute changes to his fleet’s vectors.
“Do you want to address the fleet?” Desjani asked in a way that implied he did whether he realized it or not.
“Good idea.” He paused for a moment to order his thoughts, then hit the fleetwide circuit. “All ships in the Alliance fleet, this Syndic flotilla stands between us and home. What we lack in supplies we make up for in experience and spirit.” He wasn’t following in the footsteps of Captain Falco’s sort, who thought “fighting spirit” magically multiplied the capabilities of a fighting force. But it did matter, it did make a difference, as long as you didn’t assume it provided mystical protection against enemy firepower. Experience, on the other hand, could make a tremendous difference. “These Syndics won’t stop us here because this day we will add another victory to the annals of the Alliance fleet.”
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