Courageous tlf-3

by Jack Campbell

  Geary checked the identification of the message and confirmed his suspicions. It had sounded like Captain Midea of Paladin, and it was. “We will accelerate prior to contact with the Syndics. I will order that and any formation changes at the appropriate times.”

  “She’s going to ask what the appropriate times are,” Desjani murmured.

  “This is Paladin,” another message came in on the heels of Desjani’s prediction. “Clarify appropriate times.”

  Geary fought down a blistering reply. “The appropriate times will be when I issue the orders, Paladin.” He shook his head, addressing Desjani again. “Midea’s not that stupid, is she?”

  “I don’t think so,” Desjani temporized.

  “Then surely she knows I have to base my actions on what the enemy is doing. I won’t know when to do what until we get closer to actual contact and see what formation they’re in and how fast they’re coming at us and any last-minute maneuvers they try.”

  “That’s true, sir, but I only know that because you’ve taught me that,” Desjani replied. “Our tactics were much simpler before you assumed command.”

  That was something of an understatement. With trained and experienced officer ranks repeatedly decimated by battles that increasingly resembled bloodbaths, knowledge of how to maneuver effectively, taking into account distances and time delays, had died along with those officers. After a hundred years, Geary had found tactics consisted of charging straight at the enemy again and again until one side or the other had been bludgeoned into retreat or destruction. “I hope you’re not the only one learning that,” he commented to Desjani.

  “Of course not, sir.”

  Geary’s eyes went back to the display, where Syndic Flotilla Bravo kept accelerating toward the Alliance fleet. Hopefully they hadn’t learned too much from watching Geary’s own battles.

  As time passed it became apparent that while the Syndics might have learned a few things, they hadn’t learned enough. They were coming at the Alliance fleet in the same rectangular box formation they’d been in since arriving in Lakota, one broad side now facing toward the Alliance as if the box were sliding sideways and down at the opposing fleet.

  Geary nodded, then spotted Desjani and the watch-standers within his view smiling as they watched him. That was when he realized he was smiling, too. “We’ll hold this formation. No, I’ll make one modification.”

  The Alliance fleet had remained in the five coin-shaped subformations in which it had entered Lakota. Currently, the five coins all faced forward, aimed just as surely for the Syndic formation as the enemy was aimed at them, though Formation Echo Five Five with the damaged ships and auxiliaries was behind the main body in Echo Five Four. Geary played with the maneuvering systems to come up with the right orders, then transmitted them. “All units in Echo Five Five, increase speed to merge with Formation Echo Five Four and take up positions as indicated.”

  Desjani looked intrigued, checking the orders herself. “You’re sort of tacking the old Five Five onto the bottom edge of Five Four.”

  “Right.”

  “With the Seventh Battleship Division sticking below the edge of the old Five Four?” She smiled again. “I can’t wait to see.”

  With over an hour remaining until contact, the fleets now about ten light-minutes apart, Geary watched the ships of Echo Five Five slowly overtake their comrades and assume their new positions. He knew the Syndics would see the maneuver in about ten minutes and probably not worry about it since it still left the main part of the Alliance fleet and the single Syndic box on collision courses.

  With half an hour until contact, Geary called out orders again. “Formations Echo Five Two and Echo Five Three”—the two coins to either side of the main body—“pivot formations on vertical axis at nine zero degrees at time five zero. Simultaneously roll formations on horizontal axis four five degrees so leading edges of your formations slant toward Echo Five Four.” He couldn’t have given those orders if human beings had been required to execute them. It would have simply been too complex to have that many ships swinging to new positions in both vertical and horizontal axes at the same time, even though the maneuvering systems were providing an exact picture of what Geary intended to every ship.

  “Formations Echo Five One and Echo Five Four,” Geary continued, “pivot formations nine zero degrees forward on horizontal axis at time five zero.”

  The maneuvers unfolded like an insanely complicated dance number in three dimensions, the coins of the Alliance formation shifting so that the leading thin edges of the vanguard and the main body were now pointing at the oncoming Syndics, while the two flanking formations hung off to either side, their thin edges also forward but sloping away from the main body. There was a weird beauty to watching hundreds of ships engage in such an intricate ballet.

  The maneuvers were completed at fifteen minutes to contact. “The Syndics will be seeing us changing formation,” Desjani noted.

  “Right.” Geary sat watching the display, gauging the right moment for the next move. The Syndics would see whatever he did at increasingly smaller delays, so he had to time his moves to make the Syndics react at the right times and in the wrong ways. They’d watch his first movements and not see any need to alter their course or formation, but that was about to change.

  The Syndics were now only two light-minutes away, a little over twelve minutes to contact at a combined closing speed of point one seven light speed. “All units, increase speed to point one light at time one five. All formations, alter base course up zero five degrees at time one five.”

  The Alliance fleet accelerated and pivoted, the coins angling upward. Desjani grinned fiercely. “I get it! But their commander will see it in time to react.”

  “I’m counting on that.” Geary paused, counting the seconds, depending on instinct for the timing of the next maneuver, watching the position of the Syndics relative to his own ships. “All formations, alter base course up one zero degrees, starboard zero one degrees at time one nine.”

  A minute later, Geary saw the Syndics reacting to his earlier maneuvers, pivoting their box upward so it would meet the Alliance main body head-on again, the two groups of ships passing through each other at a slight angle and a combined closing speed now just under point two light. Any faster, and relativistic distortion would seriously complicate the task of seeing where the enemy ships actually were, but below point two light, the combat systems should be able to compensate for velocities that literally changed the way the outside universe looked.

  Unfortunately for the Syndics, Geary’s second turn upward changed the angle of the engagement again, this time so close to the time of contact that the Syndic commander didn’t have time to see it and react. “All units, engage by squadrons and divisions with grapeshot and hell lances as targets enter engagement envelopes. Open fire when in range.” The order would ensure each squadron or division of Alliance ships targeted a single enemy ship, increasing the chances of getting enough hits during the instant in which the fleets would be close enough to fire on each other.

  “Enemy missiles and grapeshot passing beneath us,” the combat system watch reported gleefully as the Syndic barrage went where the Alliance fleet had been expected to be.

  Then the moment of contact came and passed. If human eyes and nervous systems were able to react quickly enough to perceive it, they would have seen the flat surfaces of the Alliance vanguard and main body coins sliding across the upper leading edge of the Syndic box, concentrating their fire repeatedly on the relatively few enemy ships in and near the edge, while the Syndics could only fire back with those same few ships at Alliance warships flashing past one after another. The coins of the flanking Alliance formations slid past the upper corners of the Syndic box, their fire even more concentrated.

  Geary blinked, wondering if he’d actually seen the flashes of weapons fire and hits during the fraction of a second in which the automated combat systems aimed and fired far faster than humans could have managed
. As the Syndics and Alliance warships diverged now, watch-standers were calling out damage assessments on the enemy and damage reports from Alliance ships.

  “We hurt them,” Desjani noted.

  On the display, the remnants of two Syndic battle cruisers were falling away from the rest of the Syndic fleet, joined by the tumbling wrecks of a battleship, five heavy cruisers, and numerous broken light cruisers and HuKs. The escort forces on the upper edge of the Syndic formation had been virtually wiped out. Hits had been scored on other Syndic ships, but none critical.

  On the Alliance side, shields had been stressed and a few lighter units had taken hits. Thankfully, all of them could still keep up with the fleet.

  Geary nodded, giving orders he’d already prepared. “All formations, alter base course up one two zero degrees at time two four.” Less than a minute later, the Alliance formations rose up and over, bending into a partial C curve and inverting from their previous orientation.

  As Geary had expected, the Syndics, making their own attempt to swing back into contact, had also come up and over in a mirror image of the Alliance maneuver. Since the two fleets were turning together, the result was to once again bring the Alliance formations across a single edge of the Syndic box, this time the bottom leading edge. Unfortunately for the Syndic warships that had been in the upper leading edge of their box formation and taken the brunt of the first Alliance firing pass, they were now on the bottom leading edge as the Syndic formation also inverted when it came around.

  Once again the Alliance formations tore across the single edge and its corners of the Syndic formation, and once again the local superiority of firepower that created hurt the Syndics far more than they could hit back at the Alliance ships.

  “Two more Syndic battleships!” Desjani exulted. “And another of their battle cruisers dead!”

  “We took more hits that time, too.” Two destroyers, Assegai and Rapier, had lost their weapons but remained able to maneuver. Several light cruisers and a heavy cruiser had been battered, and a few shots had gotten through to some of the Alliance battle cruisers. Even as Geary gave his next orders, his eyes were watching one of those battle cruisers. “All formations turn down nine zero degrees at time three five.” The Alliance fleet began bending into a full S curve as the Syndics turned into them again as well.

  But one of the Alliance battle cruisers didn’t follow the maneuver, sliding out of the formation on a slowly twisting path that would take it across the path of the Syndic formation. “What happened to Renown?” Geary demanded.

  A watch-stander rapidly called up a re-creation of the last firing pass, playing it back slowly enough for human senses to observe. The Syndics had known the Alliance fleet’s path accurately this time and placed their grapeshot barrage in the right places. Renown, closest to the enemy on her side of one of the flanking formations, had caught several volleys, which had collapsed her forward shields. As combat systems automatically shifted power from the stern and beam shields, Syndic missiles had veered in on intercepts that came up Renown’s stern. The first three missiles had broken Renown’s weakened stern shields, then three more had totally taken out her main propulsion systems.

  Under the impacts of the Syndic hits, Renown fell back and off to the side as she lost the ability to stay with the Alliance formation.

  A single battle cruiser, no longer able to use the speed that was supposed to compensate for her weaker shields and armor, no longer surrounded by the protection of her comrades.

  “Renown reports estimated time to regain limited main propulsion is three zero minutes,” the combat watch reported.

  No one needed the maneuvering systems estimates to know that Renown wouldn’t have thirty minutes. The Syndic formation would sweep over her in only about ten more minutes.

  Geary breathed a prayer. Get the fleet around, get his ships turned so he could get back to the battle cruiser before the Syndics. He couldn’t possibly do it. Physics wouldn’t allow it.

  “What’s Paladin doing?” Desjani wondered aloud.

  Geary’s eyes jerked that way. At the very rear of the main body now, Paladin had seen Renown take hits to her propulsion system and had time to react. Now the battleship was arcing around in a turn so tight the inertial dampers on her must be screaming in protest.

  He couldn’t take the entire fleet in that tight a turn. The units at the edges of his formations had a lot farther to travel to make the turns than those near the center as the turns pivoted the ships around the formations’ central axes. The only way to try to match what Paladin was doing was to let his formations dissolve, which would be a prescription for disaster when the Syndics were still holding their formation.

  “Paladin,” Geary ordered in a harsh voice, “return to your position in the formation immediately.” He had to adjust his own fleet’s course as it curved down to match a slight slide to one side by the Syndics. “All formations, come right zero two degrees, time four one.”

  “What can we do?” Rione asked from the rear of the bridge, her voice not demanding but pleading.

  Geary didn’t have to ask to know the question was about Renown. “Nothing,” he replied in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “If I let this formation fall apart, we still probably won’t get enough ships there in time to save her, and we’d definitely end up losing a lot more ships than Renown.”

  “Renown reports she has ordered all nonessential personnel to escape pods,” Dauntless’s combat watch reported.

  Geary nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He’d given the same order, a hundred years ago, a few months ago to him, at Grendel.

  Desjani gave him an anguished look but said nothing.

  Paladin kept coming around in a turn clearly aimed now at Renown as the rest of the Alliance fleet bent into its own down and over maneuver, turning as one to reverse the course of all of its ships except Renown and Paladin.

  “Paladin!” Geary yelled, not caring if he sounded unprofessionally angry during the battle. “Return to the formation immediately! Captain Midea is relieved of command. Executive officer, assume command and return Paladin to formation!”

  It was probably too late. It was certainly too late. At the velocities the ships were traveling, Paladin had already veered too far from the rest of the Alliance fleet, and the Syndics were coming around to cross under the main body of the Alliance fleet but directly at Renown and Paladin.

  Renown volleyed out waves of escape pods and all of her remaining specters as the leading edge of the Syndic formation approached. Her last grapeshot followed, sparkling as it hit the shields of Syndic ships and vaporized. One, then two, Syndic HuKs fell silent as Renown’s weapons ripped into them. A light cruiser reeled away. The shields on a battle cruiser flared and failed in spots, letting some of Renown’s hell lances score hits on the enemy warship.

  But an avalanche of fire was falling upon Renown. Her shields failed, her weak armor was penetrated in a hundred places, her hell-lance batteries fell silent as the stricken battle cruiser jerked and tumbled helplessly from the impacts of Syndic fire.

  “No systems detected still active on Renown,” a watch-stander reported in a calm but trembling voice. “Renown’s emergency beacon has lit off. Her surviving crew is abandoning ship.”

  Geary had been there, too. Hoping a functioning escape pod still existed, racing through once-familiar passageways of his ship grown foreign from massive damage, the enemy weapons still tearing into his mortally wounded ship.

  “Core overload set on Renown. Contact lost with Renown.”

  On the display, the battered hulk, which minutes before had been an Alliance battle cruiser, rolled silently away, her power core set to explode to deny her carcass to the enemy, the escape pods holding her crew mingling with those from the already destroyed Syndic warships.

  Too late to save Renown, Paladin came tearing past and above the shattered battle cruiser. Hell lances tore out from the battleship in volleys that ripped into Syndic HuKs scrambling to escap
e. Two HuKs exploded under the impacts, and one more disintegrated under the blows of Paladin’s hell lances. Then the lone Alliance battleship was in among the Syndic light cruisers, its powerful hell-lance batteries shattering the shields on two of the light cruisers, destroying one and crippling the other.

  A second later Paladin, her shields glowing now under an almost constant barrage of enemy fire, encountered Syndic heavy cruisers. Paladin’s own weapons tore open a single Syndic heavy cruiser as the battleship staggered onward directly toward a division of Syndic battleships.

  “Captain Midea is crazy, but she’s dying well,” Desjani remarked somberly.

  “Did she have to take her ship and crew with her?” Geary whispered in reply. Too late. Too late to relieve Midea. Too late to figure out how to control a reckless officer with a ship’s fate in her hands.

  “Paladin’s losing shields,” the watch reported.

  Geary could see that on his own display. Paladin’s lonely battle was far enough from the rest of the fleet by now that it took a few seconds for light from the fight to reach Dauntless. A lot could happen in a few seconds.

  It took less time than that for Paladin to charge straight into the Syndic battleship division she’d been aiming for, shuddering as enemy weapons ripped into her from all sides. But Paladin concentrated her own fire on a single battleship even as her hell-lance batteries started falling silent under the Syndic barrage. As Paladin and that Syndic battleship flashed past each other, Paladin fired her null field at the weakened bow shields of the enemy ship. Its already-stressed shields failed, and the null field penetrated into the Syndic battleship’s bow, digging a massive crater there.

  As the Syndic battleship reeled out of formation, crippled, Paladin shot through the rest of the Syndic formation, taking hit after hit, systems falling dead and pieces of armor and hull being blown off under the impact of Syndic hell lances, grapeshot, and missile fire.

  As Geary’s fleet came over the top of its turn and steadied on course for another pass at the Syndic flotilla, Paladin’s remains tumbled onward past the Syndics, the only sign of life on the wreck a few escape pods popping free.