So It Begins (Defending The Future)

by James Chambers

  The nearest star to Grendel on the Syndic side of the border was Shannin, but the two stars might as well have been a million light years apart since ships never jumped between them. On this side of the border, most of the stars belonged to the Alliance by the choice of the inhabitants of their planets. On the other side of the border, every star system belonged to the Syndicate Worlds, whether the people living on the planets liked it or not. The leaders of the Syndics liked to proclaim their avowed love of freedom, but the outcomes of allegedly free votes in the Syndicate World either were never in doubt or made little difference since local authorities were given little real power compared to the corporate-dominated power structure.

  Decala must have noticed what Geary was looking at. “What do you suppose the Syndics are doing? It’s been almost six months since they announced that no more Alliance merchant shipping would be allowed in Syndic space.”

  He shrugged in reply. “You’ve seen the intelligence assessments. No one on this side of the border seems to know, and our embassies and other diplomatic posts inside the Syndicate Worlds haven’t been able to find out what’s going on. The best guess is that it was a protectionist trade measure, to seal out competition from the Alliance.”

  “It’s not like we ever had that much trade with them. They never encouraged it.”

  “No. Not much tourism, either. But whatever the Syndics are thinking, it hasn’t ramped up tensions beyond the usual level. They seem to be behaving themselves and respecting the border agreements.” Geary checked his daily agenda. “Only two drills scheduled over the next twelve hours, and those are just simulated maneuvers.”

  “We have to conserve fuel cells,” Decala reminded Geary dryly. “Remember what Admiral Kindera said. Fleet budgets won’t support racing around star systems.”

  “Or support carrying out necessary training,” Geary agreed. “Keep the ship on a routine schedule today, but make sure the junior officers most in need of training are on hand for those simulated maneuvers this afternoon. I’ll be there to supervise and make sure the other ships are taking the drill seriously.”

  He stood up. “Let me know if anything changes,” Geary informed the bridge watch standers, then headed toward his stateroom to get some paperwork done.

  “Captain to the bridge!” Halfway through his regular walk-through of the ship, Geary’s feet were moving toward the bridge before his mind fully absorbed the urgent summons. Rather than pause to call the bridge on the nearest comm panel he simply kept up a quick pace, any crew members in the passageways of Merlon jumping aside when they saw him coming so he would have a clear path. He was sliding into his command seat on the bridge when Lieutenant Commander Decala arrived on his heels. “What’s going on?” Geary asked.

  “A Syndic flotilla has arrived via the jump point from Shannin, sir,” the operations watch reported.

  “What?” The news was not only unexpected but also inexplicable. Geary activated his own display, seeing the data which Merlon’s sensors had already collected. Coming in-system from the jump point were not just a few Syndic warships, but a substantial flotilla.

  “Four heavy cruisers?” Decala asked.

  “Plus four light cruisers, six Hunter-Killers, and ten corvettes,” the operations watch confirmed.

  Geary frowned at his display. Military attachés and other sources within the Syndicate Worlds had a pretty good handle on Syndic military capabilities, and he was certain that the Syndics had the same sort of knowledge of Alliance warships. The Syndic heavy cruisers each pretty much matched Merlon in maneuverability and protection, but the Syndic armament was slightly better, even though the Syndic missiles weren’t quite as good as the Alliance’s wraith missiles. The light cruisers were significantly smaller, both more lightly armed and armored than heavy cruisers, but faster because of greater propulsion capability relative to their mass. In a one-on-one match up, Pommel would have had a slim advantage against any one of them. The Hunter-Killers were smaller and less capable than the Alliance destroyers, but the HuKs were a little faster. The Syndic corvettes were smaller yet, singly not a match for any Alliance warship, and could just keep up with their heavy cruisers. Still, it was a very strong force relative to Merlon and the other Alliance warships at Grendel.

  The Syndics had come in from a jump point to one side of the current track of the Alliance convoy, barely two light hours distant. Which meant the Syndic warships had already been in this star system for two hours before the light from their arrival reached the Alliance convoy. He wondered what they had been doing in those two hours. “I need an assessment of their track as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, sir. The Syndics have accelerated and come around to port.” Space had no directions as humans understood them, of course, so humans imposed their own, arbitrarily designating an exact plane for any star system and defining one side of that plane as up, the other side as down, any direction away from the star as port and directions toward the star as starboard or starward. It wasn’t the only possible means by which ships could orient themselves to each other in space, but it was the one which humans had adopted. Without an external reference and such conventions, no human ship could possibly understand what any other ship meant when it gave directions.

  Rubbing his neck, Geary tapped a request into the maneuvering system and saw the result pop up. “I don’t like this. They seem to be moving onto an intercept with this convoy.”

  “They could just be heading onto a converging vector,” Decala noted, “if they were also aiming for the jump point for T’shima.”

  “Why the hell would a Syndic flotilla of that size be going to T’shima? For that matter, what the hell are they doing in Alliance space at all?” Protocol dictated that a foreign ship arriving in a star system announce its intentions, but any such message from the Syndics should have shown up right about the same time as the light revealing their appearance at Grendel. “There’s nothing from the Syndics on any channel?”

  “No, sir,” the communications watch confirmed.

  Geary pulled up the current version of the rules of engagement. This wasn’t the first time that he had read them, of course, but he hadn’t seriously expected to need the ROE on this trip. “We are supposed to defend Alliance space, Alliance citizens, and Alliance property, we are required to be firm and resolute, but we are not allowed to explicitly threaten military action or open fire unless first fired upon. I wish the idiots who wrote these instructions were here now.” He pounded one fist softly on the arm of his seat. “I’ll send a challenge, but it’ll be two hours before they get it, and even if they reply immediately, that will take almost another two hours.”

  “They’re still a long ways off,” Decala said. “We have time to figure out how to deal with this.”

  “Do we?” Geary’s display updated, showing the Syndic flotilla had steadied out on a course and speed two hours ago, the now-converging paths of the Syndic flotilla and the Alliance convoy arcing across the expanse of Grendel star system. “They are heading for the jump point for T’shima, and they’re going to get to it before we do.” The jump point was only about two and half light hours distant now, but with the convoy loafing along at point zero four light speed that translated to about sixty hours of travel time. The Syndics, at about three light hours distance from the jump point for T’shima, were traveling at point zero eight light speed and would get there in a less than thirty-eight hours.

  “We can accelerate,” Decala suggested. “Fleet will raise hell with us for using extra fuel cells, but it’s justified.”

  He hesitated before answering, then ran some quick checks using the maneuvering system. “That’s not good enough. The transports are too slow. We could all beat the Syndic heavy cruisers and the corvettes to the jump point, but the Syndic light cruisers and HuKs could intercept us before the jump point if they separated from the rest and used their best acceleration. It wouldn’t take much damage to the transports to leave them unable to outrun the heavy cruisers and H
uKs.”

  Decala was now staring at Geary. “Sir, you’re talking as if this was a combat situation.”

  “Maybe it is. Don’t we have to plan as if it is?” He wished he had days to think about this, or at least a few more hours, but he had to act quickly or not at all. The slow, cumbersome transports needed all the lead time they could get if this was indeed a threat. Think of it as a combat exercise. A drill. They’re presenting me with this situation. What do I do? Hold off acting until my options are gone? Or do something knowing it might be wrong, and might get me laughed at for over-reacting and disciplined for ‘wasting fleet resources?’ He’d probably even get that annoying “Black Jack” nickname thrown in his face again. But. . . “They didn’t make me commanding officer of a cruiser because they expected me to do nothing.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’m just lecturing myself.” Geary punched his controls, calling up an image of Lieutenant Commander Lagemann on the Pommel. “I’m splitting the convoy,” Geary announced without any preamble. “You are to take Pommel, all three destroyers and all of the transports, accelerating at the best pace the transports can achieve so as to reach the jump point for T’shima as soon as possible.” The transports would accelerate slowly, but could eventually manage point zero eight light speed themselves. After factoring in how long it would take the transports to reach their maximum velocity if they started accelerating now, it would be thirty-four hours before they reached the jump point. Time enough to beat the Syndics there, as long as none of the Syndics accelerated. But time delays worked both ways. It would take the Syndics two hours to see what the Alliance ships had done, two hours before the Syndics could react in any way.

  Pommel’s commanding officer didn’t quite manage to conceal his surprise at the orders. “Sir, if you think those Syndics might be a threat, we should keep our forces concentrated,” Lagemann objected.

  Geary shook his head. “Our job is to get those transports safely to T’shima. That’s the overriding priority. I will take Merlon and use her to block the movement of the Syndic light cruisers and HuKs if they are detached to try to intercept the transports. Pommel and the destroyers will be responsible for defending the transports and stopping any Syndics that get past Merlon.”

  Lagemann gave him the same look which Decala had earlier. “You really think this might turn into a combat situation, sir? If so, we shouldn’t split our combat capabilities,” he urged again.

  “If that entire Syndic flotilla catches us, our entire combat capability won’t stand a snowball’s chance in a star’s photosphere. You can see that as well as I can. If we weren’t encumbered by the transports we might be able to wear the Syndics down until they had to withdraw, but we are responsible for those transports. We have to keep the Syndics from getting enough of their forces within range of the transports, and this is the only way to do it.”

  Pommel’s commanding officer looked away, clearly unhappy. “Sir, you’re asking us to leave Merlon to face the Syndics alone, to fight alone if necessary.”

  “I realize that, and I appreciate your loyalty to your comrades.” Geary smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring and confident manner. “This is our best course of action. Most likely, they’ll stay clear of us and then leave after making whatever point they’re trying to make. But if the Syndics do prove to be hostile, and if any of them get past Merlon, those transports will need Pommel and the destroyers. That’s where your duty lies.”

  “I understand, sir.” Lagemann saluted. “When do we detach?”

  “Immediately. I’ll send the message notifying everyone. Get those transports moving.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  That done, Geary called the Syndics. “This is Commander John Geary of the Alliance heavy cruiser Merlon calling the Syndicate Worlds’ warships which have entered the Alliance star system of Grendel. You are to immediately identify yourselves and your purpose for being in Grendel.”

  “Firm and resolute,” Decala observed.

  “Yeah.” In another four hours or so, he would know if the Syndics were going to answer him. “Get the crew some rest while we can,” he told Decala. Any executive officer’s instincts were to keep a crew working, but at the moment Geary felt he should override those instincts. “We might need to come to full readiness and stay there for a while.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He had either already made a major fool of himself by over-reacting, or had set up a situation where Merlon might have to actually trade shots with the Syndics. He wasn’t sure which one of those things would be worse for his career.

  “We finally have a reply from the Syndics.”

  Geary accepted the transmission in his stateroom, where he had retired for a little while to avoid driving his bridge crew crazy out of his own frustration as the hours had gone by without any answer from the Syndics. His comm panel lit, showing a female Syndic CEO with the usual perfectly done hair, perfectly fitted uniform, and perfectly insincere smile. “Greetings to Commander Geary from CEO Third Rank Fredericka Nalis on the Syndicate Worlds’ heavy cruiser C-195. Our flotilla is on a peaceful diplomatic visit to Alliance space, arranged through your own fleet headquarters. It seems you were not informed of our impending arrival, but I trust there will be no incidents which might imperil a visit designed to reduce tensions between our peoples.”

  It sounded plausible enough, especially given fleet headquarters’ tendency to forget to tell operational units what was supposed to be happening. “Commander Decala, have you seen the Syndic response?”

  Decala’s image appeared on his panel and nodded. “Yes, sir. I don’t like it, sir.”

  “Fleet has screwed up in the past about notifying us.”

  “Yes, but not about something this big. A large Syndic flotilla entering Alliance space? Sir, they’d have been assigned an Alliance escort, wouldn’t they?”

  “That’s the proper procedure.” Geary tapped another command as an alert sounded. “Damn. The Syndic light cruisers and HuKs are accelerating away from the slower warships.”

  The image of Decala nodded again. “On an intercept aimed at Pommel and the transports, or maybe just the jump point. Same difference. Sir, this stinks.”

  “It surely does, Cara. Work up a direct intercept for us, bringing Merlon in toward those Syndic light cruisers and HuKs. I’ll be on the bridge in a minute.”

  By the time he arrived the maneuver had been calculated. Geary studied it for a moment, thinking things through. Relative to Merlon, the Syndic heavy cruisers and corvettes were just abaft the port beam and just above, their course slowly converging on Merlon and their distance slowly decreasing. The accelerating Syndic light cruisers and HuKs would be creeping forward of Merlon’s port beam, their paths aimed ahead of Merlon and toward the rest of the Alliance convoy which now was off the starboard bow of Merlon and slightly below, drawing steadily away as the lumbering transports burned through fuel cells at a rate that would probably make the budget geeks at fleet headquarters faint from distress. If the maneuvering system estimates proved right, the Syndic light cruisers and HuKs could intercept the transports in less than eight and a half hours, half an hour before the transports reached the jump point for T’shima. There wasn’t any time to waste. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Merlon’s thrusters pitched her bow around and slightly down, then the main propulsion units lit off and accelerated the heavy cruiser onto a vector which would cross just ahead of the path the Syndic light cruisers and HuKs were on.

  As Merlon steadied out, Geary checked the time to intercept. The Alliance heavy cruiser would cross the path of the Syndic light cruisers and HuKs in seven and a half hours. He took a calming breath, then transmitted another message to the Syndics. “Syndic CEO Nalis, this is Commander Geary. We have no notification or clearance for your ships to transit Alliance space. Your light cruisers and Hunter-Killers are to rejoin your main formation at the earliest possible time, and you are requested to assume an orbit about Grendel until we receive c
onfirmation that your visit has been approved.”

  Decala was shaking her head again. “If the brass try to nail you for causing a diplomatic incident, I’ll back you up, sir.”

  “Thanks.” Geary tried to ignore an increasing sense of disquiet as he watched the movements of the Syndics. “Let’s hope a diplomatic incident is the worst that can come of this.” He indicated the latest updates on the maneuvering display. “If those Syndic light cruisers and HuKs don’t turn back, either we stop them or they’ll get to the transports before the transports can jump out of this star system.”

  “Surely they wouldn’t—Captain, I’ve reviewed the latest intelligence and news we have. It’s just as we thought. There’s nothing going on that should have triggered Syndic hostile actions. Things are tense, certainly, but they’ve often been tense.” Decala made a baffled gesture. “I don’t trust that Syndic CEO at all, but her story is the only explanation that makes sense for what’s happening.”

  “The only explanation that makes sense to us, you mean.” Geary rubbed his face with both hands. “Before the convoy jumps, I’ll tell Lagemann to ask the brass at T’shima for guidance once he gets there. If there was a Syndic flotilla coming through a region of space that T’shima was responsible for, even fleet headquarters wouldn’t forget to notify them. The commodore at T’shima can send instructions back with one of the destroyers, telling us what to do with the Syndics.”

  “Assuming the Syndics do as you directed and maintain an orbit here until we get those instructions.”

  “Yeah. Assuming that.” Geary looked at the course vectors curving through space on his display and shook his head.