Valiant tlf-4

by Jack Campbell

  With the orders given, the fleet reacting as it should, and no Syndic pursuit force yet showing up astern, Geary had one of those lulls created by the vast distances of a star system. Even with his ships accelerating to point one light speed, it would take more than an hour and a half just to cover the ten light-minutes separating the fleet from that big Syndic formation of damaged warships and repair ships. But the Syndics were also moving away from the Alliance ships, though unable to do so nearly as fast the Alliance fleet was charging at them.

  “Estimated time to intercept one point seven hours,” Desjani grumbled. “They’re running, but we’ll still be on them well before those two Syndic battleships can reach us.”

  “We’ll have to make sure those battleships are stopped dead before they can smash their way through to any of our auxiliaries.” On Geary’s display, paths arced through space as Alliance destroyers and light cruisers pulled ahead of the heavier combatants, aiming not only for the largest Syndic formation but also smaller groups and individual ships. “Call it two more hours before we take those Syndic ships. We’ll be lucky if we achieve that before the Syndic pursuit comes in behind us.”

  “Do you suppose any more Syndic reinforcements showed up here after we left?” Desjani wondered.

  “Good question. We can’t assume the totals we saw at Lakota last time we were here reflect what the Syndics have available now and in the pursuit force. But it looks like what’s here is going to fight.” Geary watched some of the damaged warships that had been proceeding independently toward the inner planets alter their vectors to come around and head toward individual rendezvous with the two battleships, trying to build a scratch task force. Counting up the ships involved, and their states of repair, Geary shook his head. He knew how they were feeling, badly outnumbered and not prepared for this kind of battle. His own fleet had faced a similar situation when it had last been at Lakota.

  Out of the almost eighty Syndic battleships and battle cruisers the Alliance fleet had once faced at Lakota, at least six Syndic battleships and ten Syndic battle cruisers had been destroyed during those battles. Alliance sensors had also been able to confirm twenty Syndic heavy cruisers destroyed then, as well as dozens of light cruisers and Hunter-Killers. But numerous Syndic warships had been badly damaged as well, some of them by Audacious, Indefatigable, and Defiant as they fought to the last. Those damaged Syndic ships had been left behind here when the Syndic commander took a strike force in pursuit of the fleeing Alliance fleet.

  The large formation of crippled Syndic ships included four battleships and no less than seven battle cruisers as well as thirteen heavy cruisers. Trying to close with that formation of badly hurt warships right now in addition to the two combat-effective battleships from the guard force were one more battleship, two battle cruisers, and another three heavy cruisers, all of which had suffered significant damage. Scattered around them were about a dozen light cruisers and HuKs, which had been limping for repair docks, and some of those were also trying to join in the defense of their helpless fellows.

  He ran out the course vectors and the times. If all of those ships managed to join together, it would create a weak but dangerous flotilla. But with the distances involved and the propulsion damage so many had suffered, the Syndic defenders could only arrive in staggered waves of a few ships at a time unless they pulled back and tried to form up farther away from the Alliance fleet, at the cost of letting the Alliance ships tear apart the big formation unhindered. That would buy the Syndics a little time, but not enough to save them unless the pursuit force came through that jump point a lot sooner than Geary hoped.

  A pair of tugs had been dragging a riddled Syndic heavy cruiser only three light-minutes from the jump point. The unlucky heavy cruiser must have been forced to wait the longest for a tow to show up. Now, with no hope of running away from the Alliance destroyers and light cruisers heading for them, the crews of the tugs abandoned ship, escape pods spitting frantically from the slow, clumsy vessels. Several escape pods erupted from the heavy cruiser itself as well, marking the flight of the salvage crew left aboard the ship.

  The Alliance destroyers Jinto and Herebra reached the tugs first and blew them into fragments with close-in hell-lance fire before altering course to head for their next targets. Right behind them, Contus, Savik, and the light cruisers Tierce, Ward, and Lunge rolled past above and to port of the abandoned heavy cruiser, hell lances slamming repeatedly into the hulk until it shattered into multiple fragments. “Let’s see them recover that,” Geary remarked.

  “There goes another one,” Desjani noted gleefully, as a solitary Syndic light cruiser whose remaining crew had also abandoned ship came apart under the fire of a half dozen Alliance destroyers.

  Struck by a sudden thought, Geary sent out orders. “Ocrea, pick up some of the escape pods from that Syndic heavy cruiser. I want to know what the crew members from that ship can tell us about how long it took the pursuit force to jump after us and anything else they can tell us about the pursuit force.” One of his own heavy cruisers, Ocrea wouldn’t have interrogation facilities anything like those on Dauntless, but he didn’t have the luxury of the time to get those prisoners to a capital ship for questioning. Hopefully some of the Syndic crew members would spill their guts after the shock of having the Alliance fleet reappear and destroy their ship.

  It was also time to update the maneuvering plan based on what the Syndics were doing. The Syndic defensive moves had actually simplified the Alliance requirements. As Syndic warships came together, Alliance ships that had been dispersed to hit each one individually could also merge into larger formations. Geary frowned at the display, where the enemy flotilla filled with damaged warships had been tagged with the name Casualty Flotilla. The tactical systems automatically named enemy formations, so he was surprised that one had a specific status designator rather than a generic name like “Flotilla Alpha.” It was always a little unnerving to him when automated support systems acted a bit too human.

  He wasn’t trying anything fancy that would require a lot of maneuvering. The subformations would be concentrated into loose, larger formations, which would sweep directly over the largest Syndic formation, the Casualty Flotilla, then onward to hit the less-badly damaged warships trying to form into their own flotilla, then soon afterward the two battleships racing outward from the guard force. “How’s this look to you?” he asked Desjani.

  She studied it, face intent. “A series of fast firing runs over the Casualty Flotilla to knock out the weapons on the Syndic warships that have any working? You don’t want to destroy them right away?”

  “Not until our auxiliaries are done looting their repair ships. I don’t want to risk debris from destroyed warships messing up our pillaging operation. We can finish off everything when we pull away from the Casualty Flotilla. We’ll have four of our battleships with the auxiliaries then.”

  Desjani nodded. “Even the Third Battleship Division should be able to handle destroying enemy ships with all of their systems knocked out. But you need to leave a couple of more battleships or battle cruisers with the formation containing the auxiliaries.”

  “Why? I know Warrior has been beat to hell again, but Orion and Majestic can put up a fight and Conqueror is in good shape. I’m sticking Conqueror with them since she’s part of the same battleship division. Those four battleships should be able to handle anything that manages to get through the rest of the fleet.”

  Desjani kept her expression controlled and her voice bland. “That’s true, if Orion, Majestic, and Conqueror do not have difficulties engaging the enemy.”

  Meaning that their commanding officers might find reasons to avoid battle. He had to admit that Desjani’s diplomatically worded statement was justified. Captain Casia of Conqueror hadn’t inspired any confidence. Commander Yin, acting commander of Orion since Captain Numos had been relieved of command and placed under arrest, made Casia look like a paragon of a combat officer by comparison. And Majestic’s acting comman
der, who had also gotten his job when his former captain (Numos’s ally Captain Faresa) had been relieved for cause, was such a nonentity that Geary had trouble remembering the man’s face. In a perfect world he would have replaced all of them by now, but a fleet fleeing for its life through enemy territory was far from a perfect world, especially when the fleet’s politics left Geary’s hold on command tenuous enough that he couldn’t afford to be seen acting too high-handedly. Some officers might work against him more vigorously as a result, and other officers would believe such behavior meant Geary was on his way to accepting the role of the dictator they either hoped or feared he would become.

  His frown deepened. “I hate to waste a couple of more capital ships just because those three battleships might encounter problems.”

  “If the wreck of Audacious does hold prisoners who need to be liberated,” Desjani pointed out, “they’ll need all the shuttles they can get to transfer them off, and ships nearby big enough to hold the liberated prisoners at least temporarily.”

  “Good point.” But that still left the problem of two capital-ship commanders who wouldn’t be thrilled to be told to stay back with the auxiliaries. Who might find ways to avoid following his orders, and if they were doing that to race into battle, most of their fellow commanders wouldn’t condemn them for it or approve of Geary raising hell with them for abandoning their escort duty. The doctrine of all-out attack was still too thoroughly engrained in the fleet. He glanced back to where Co-President Rione was sitting, watching events with an unreadable expression. “Madam Co-President, I’d appreciate your advice on how to phrase some orders—”

  “I heard you.” Rione broke in. “Thank you for deigning to include me in your discussions.” She paused just long enough for that to sink in. “You’re sending these ships to ensure our own people, recently taken prisoner, are liberated and brought to safety. If any Syndic warships get through to the space near what’s left of Audacious, they could disrupt that action, or even cause some of those prisoners to be killed. What more justification do you need to offer? What more honorable task can a ship be assigned than ensuring our people are safely recovered?”

  Geary nodded. “Very well put, Madam Co-President.” That left the question of who to send. He ran his eyes across the display, trying to decide who could be trusted and who wouldn’t take exaggerated offense at what Rione had pointed out was indeed a highly honorable assignment even if it wasn’t in the front of the engagement. He’d already heard indirectly that some officers were regarded as his favorites, and it wouldn’t do to reinforce that impression even if it was in many ways true. He did like certain commanding officers because they were capable as well as aggressive, smart as well as brave, loyal to their duties to the Alliance rather than to political games meant to advance their careers. Captain Cresida, for example …Whose battle cruiser Furious along with Implacable were the last surviving ships of the Fifth Battle Cruiser Division. And he needed two ships. “I’ll send Cresida. Her ship and Implacable.”

  Desjani’s eyebrows shot up, then hastily lowered again. “She’s used to being in the thick of battle.”

  “Exactly. She’s proven her ability to carry out this task.”

  “I’m glad I’m not the one who’ll be telling her that, sir,” Desjani responded dryly.

  “We’re almost a light-minute away from Furious now. That ought to be outside the blast radius,” Geary noted. Desjani grinned.

  He changed the plan, let Desjani see it again for a sanity check, then transmitted the changes. On the heels of that, he called Furious. “Captain Cresida, I’m giving Furious and Implacable the most important job in the fleet. I want you to make sure our imprisoned personnel, and our auxiliaries, are well protected.”

  Geary barely heard Desjani’s low murmur. “Tell her that you’re counting on her.” She saw his reaction. “It’s true. Say it. Sir.”

  The exchange had taken only a couple of seconds. Geary continued the same transmission. “I’m counting on you, Captain Cresida.” It felt absolutely shameless to use that on Cresida. But it was true. Desjani was right about that.

  Cresida’s reply took a little over two minutes, given the distance between her ship and Dauntless. To Geary’s surprise, Cresida sounded not angry but both pleased and determined. “Yes, sir. Furious and Implacable won’t let our imprisoned comrades down, and won’t let you down.”

  Geary stole a glance at Desjani, who was apparently absorbed in studying her display. Desjani had been giving advice that way almost from the first time he’d met her, Geary realized. Maybe she believed the living stars themselves had sent him, but if she thought there was something Geary needed to know, she’d tell him and keep repeating it until he paid attention. Just as importantly, Desjani wasn’t blindly accepting his plans, instead telling him what she thought needed to be changed. He wondered now if she ever had shown total acceptance of his plans, or if her unquestioning faith in his mission had never gotten in the way of telling him when she thought something should be done differently. “Thank you, Captain Desjani.”

  She glanced his way and nodded with a slight smile. “Captain Cresida needs to be handled just so, sir.”

  “Just keep giving me advice when I need it.”

  This time Desjani looked surprised at the statement. “That’s my job, sir. Though if I may say so, you take it much better than Admiral Bloch ever did.”

  He checked the time. Still no sign of the Syndic pursuit force and still over an hour left before the Syndic Casualty Flotilla was overhauled. This was going to be a long day no matter what happened.

  “Captain!” a watch-stander called to Desjani. “We’ve spotted escape pods leaving the repair ships in the Casualty Flotilla.”

  “What?” Geary thought he and Desjani had said it simultaneously. But the display was indeed showing a swarm of escape pods leaving the Syndic repair ships. “They’re punching out of their ships this early?”

  Desjani was frowning, apparently trying to figure out what kind of Syndic trick this was. “Did they figure out how badly we need what’s in the bunkers on those repair ships? Are they going to blow up all of them before we even get within a couple of light-minutes?” she wondered.

  Before Geary could answer, his internal communications circuit buzzed urgently. Lieutenant Iger in the intelligence section. It was very unusual to hear from him during a battle since his work dealt with longer-term collection and analysis, everything of tactical importance being automatically shown on the displays before Geary and other commanders. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

  Iger’s head within the small pop-up window inclined diffidently. “Sorry to bother you during an action, sir, but—”

  “Just tell me, Lieutenant. What is it?”

  The intelligence officer looked startled, then spoke quickly. “We’ve confirmed these are standard Syndic repair ships.”

  Geary waited, but like the engineers on his own auxiliaries, the intelligence officer apparently expected him to just know things sometimes. “Meaning what? Why are they abandoning ship so early?”

  “Because they’re not military, sir.”

  “They’re not military?”

  Desjani, overhearing, gave Geary a surprised look.

  “Yes, sir,” Iger responded. “Syndic major logistics support isn’t handled by combat arms. It’s handled by a different directorate and contracted out to corporations. Our fleet never sees repair ships like these because they’re never supposed to go where they can encounter Alliance warships.”

  “They’re civilian?” Geary demanded.

  “Yes, sir. Military-related civilian, of course. Totally legitimate targets. But no military personnel aboard, no combat training, no defenses. That’s why they’re abandoning ship. They and their corporations aren’t paid to engage in combat. From what we know, the crews would get in trouble if their actions somehow caused us to inflict more damage on those repair ships. So they’re punching out now.”

  “Wait a minute. They want to ensure as
little damage as possible is done to those repair ships?” Iger nodded vigorously. “We know that?”

  “Yes, sir. From captured records and prisoner interrogations. Most Syndic fleet personnel don’t like the civilian contract people because they don’t think they get proper support from them. The civilian contractors are also paid considerably more, which is probably the real main point of contention as far as Syndic military personnel are concerned.”

  “I’ll be damned.” Geary thought for a moment. “Then they won’t have rigged any traps on those repair ships?”

  Iger hesitated, clearly thinking, looked sideways as someone else in the intelligence section spoke to him, then nodded again. “I’d regard that as very unlikely, sir. They’d lose their jobs if their corporations thought they had caused more damage to those ships. It’s safe to assume they’ve shut down all systems and left the repair ships to coast in the hope that we’ll ignore them or just toss a few shots at them as we cruise past.”

  “They’re going to be disappointed. Thanks, Lieutenant. Excellent work by you and your people.”

  As Lieutenant Iger’s image vanished, Geary turned to speak to both Desjani and Rione, then repeated what the intelligence officer had said. “You’ve never seen these sorts of repair ships?” he asked Desjani.

  She shook her head. “Only in briefing documents on Syndic ship types. No, I’ve never encountered one and don’t think I ever ran a simulation with one in it, either.”