“Thank you,” Geary said, not looking at Desjani. “We’ll have to see what happens, but we’ll be able to react appropriately no matter what the bear-cows do and remain clear of the spider-wolf formation just in case they’re not as friendly as they say.”
Commander Neeson hunched forward. “My systems security officer briefed me on the spider-wolf program we received. Our software specialists are geeking out over it.”
“I understand it has capabilities beyond anything human software can do,” Geary said.
“Is the rest of the spider-wolf technology superior to ours? My engineers are also enraptured by what they’ve seen of the spider-wolf ships.”
Geary gave the only answer he could. “We’ll find out. Right now, with the spider-wolf flotilla not changing its vector, we can’t tell what their maneuvering capabilities are like. Their shield strength seems to match ours, but we don’t know if they’re at full strength or dialed back since their ships are not in action at this time.”
Captain Smythe spoke up. “My specialists analyzed what could be seen of the spider-wolf equipment in the videos they have sent us. About the only conclusion they were willing to reach was that the bridge appears to be truly three-dimensional in its layout.”
“Three-dimensional?” Tulev questioned.
“There doesn’t seem to be a deck,” Smythe explained, “a single surface that everything is arranged around. Instead, the arrangement of equipment seems to reflect no up-and-down bias. It’s just wherever it best fits.”
“They couldn’t have evolved in zero g,” someone protested.
“No, but however they evolved, they didn’t think in terms of ‘this has to be down and this has to be up.’”
“Have you passed that analysis on to the civilian experts?” Geary asked Smythe.
“Um . . .”
“Please do so as soon as this meeting is over.” He took a moment to be certain he hadn’t forgotten anything. “We know from our encounter at Pandora that the bear-cow superbattleships are extremely tough. Instead of focusing on them, our combat systems will be told to prioritize concentrating fire against the smaller warships accompanying the superbattleships. We’ll peel away those escorts, destroy all of them if necessary, and once the superbattleships are stripped of support, we’ll go after them one by one.”
“What if they run?” Captain Jane Geary asked.
“Then we wave ’bye and watch them go back to the jump exit.” He wasn’t sure how that answer would be taken, not in this fleet, which had long ago fallen back on a single-minded emphasis on attack to replace the tactical expertise wiped out by bloody losses in decade after decade. “If they run, we’ve won. Pursuing a bigger victory would surely cost more lives in this fleet, and I believe that we’ve lost enough humans already at the hands of the bear-cows.”
“We need to teach the Kicks a lesson,” Jane Geary insisted. “Now is the perfect time and place to do that.”
“We need to get home,” Captain Hiyen grumbled in response. “The ships of the Callas Republic are part of this fleet for the purpose of defending our homes. Turning back the Kicks with a bloody nose so they can’t follow us and have no idea where our homes are accomplishes that.”
“The Alliance fleet,” the commander of the heavy cruiser Barding began, “does not turn from battle and does not settle for less than complete victory.”
“Speak for yourself,” the captain of Sapphire replied. “That’s Black Jack, remember? If he says a victory satisfies honor, then I won’t question him. How can any of us?”
“Even Black Jack was just a man,” Jane Geary said, in the manner of someone who had made that kind of statement many times before. From what Geary had learned of her, his grandniece had spent her life resenting the Black Jack legend, which had constrained her and her brother Michael, forcing them into the fleet in the footsteps of their legendary great-uncle. “We do neither ourselves nor our fleet commander any credit by not raising appropriate questions—”
“This is not a debate.” Geary didn’t realize that he had said that, in tones that sliced across the conversation, until after every face turned toward him. “I am in command. This is the plan we will follow. Are there any other questions?”
There weren’t. As the officers vanished around him, leaving only Tanya Desjani still with him, Geary struggled to get his temper under control.
“I tried talking to her earlier,” Desjani said. “She was polite enough to me but no more than that. I made some joke about being part of the family now, and the temperature around her seemed to drop close to absolute zero.”
“I don’t get it,” he said.
“I think I’m beginning to.” Tanya stood up, her lips pressed tightly together. “She hated being a Geary, all her life she hated having to live in your shadow—”
“It was never my shadow!”
“All right. Black Jack’s shadow. The point is, she might have hated it, but it was her. She was a Geary. Everyone looked at her as being part of that, even if she didn’t like it. Now . . .” Tanya shrugged. “Now you’re back. You’re Black Jack himself, and don’t bother interrupting again to deny it, and you suck all of the oxygen out of her world just by being here. She’s just Jane now. And I’m your partner. Chosen to be with you. Where does that leave her?”
Geary stood silently for a while. “Trying to be something.”
“Yeah. Because she thinks everything she was is gone. Something has to replace that. She changed after she went back to your home world, remember? What do you think people said there? In how many ways was she forced to measure herself against not a legend but against a real person? Now she’s going to prove she’s a Geary.”
He stared toward the bulkhead before him, seeing not the surface there but images of other captains who had sought glory. Captain Midea charging Paladin to destruction at Lakota. Captain Falco, leading Triumph, Polaris, and Vanguard to their deaths at Vidha. Captain Kila, cold-bloodedly arranging the destruction of Lorica at Padronis, while also trying to cause the loss of Dauntless with all hands.
Those officers had thought themselves heroic, and ships and crews had paid the price.
There was a way to prevent that.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Tanya said.
He focused on her. “What wouldn’t be a good idea?”
“Relieving her of command.”
“How did you—?”
She leaned in, one forefinger to his chest. “I know who you’re thinking of. You think she’s like Midea? I knew Midea a lot longer than you did. Jane Geary isn’t close to that. She’s been a bit reckless, she’s pushed for more action, but she hasn’t been stupid.”
“What about Falco?”
“Falco? Falco was epically stupid, and he thought nothing of spending ships and the lives of crews in the pursuit of his victories.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “You’re thinking of someone else.”
“You really are reading my mind, aren’t you?” At the moment, it didn’t seem a strange thing to believe at all.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Who’s the other one you’re thinking of?”
“Kila.”
Desjani glared at him silently for several seconds. “No one deserves to be compared to that murderous bitch, especially not your own grandniece. Keep this in mind, Admiral. I am death on incompetent officers. You know that. Jane Geary isn’t incompetent. She’s smart, but she needs a firm, guiding hand right now. You are her leader. Lead her.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s not funny, Admiral. Now let’s go teach some Kicks not to mess with the Alliance fleet.”
“That reminds me.” Desjani paused to look back at him as Geary frowned at her. “Why didn’t you bring up to me the possibility that the bear-cows would aim at the spider-wolves when we split our fleet?”
“Because you already knew! I knew that you wouldn’t want to admit knowing that could happen, but you know I know my job well enough to spot that, and I know you k
now enough about tactics to spot that as quickly as I did.”
It took him a moment to work his way through her statement. “Tanya, I hadn’t seen that before it was pointed out.”
“Seriously?” She stared at him, then shrugged. “Sorry, Admiral. You’re good at tactics. You know that. I assume you know things that look obvious and, in this case, were just being diplomatic to avoid saying, ‘Better those ugly suckers than us.’”
“You need to point out things like that to me rather than assume I already know them.”
“So you can say, ‘I know all that’?” Desjani demanded.
“I’ve said that once.”
“I respectfully beg to differ, sir.”
“I— Tanya, why the hell can you sometimes read my mind and other times not have a clue as to what I’m thinking?”
“I knew you were going to say that! No, I can’t ever read your mind. Can we go fight the battle now?”
“Yes.” Unlike this argument, at least he would have a chance of winning the battle.
HE took his seat on the bridge of Dauntless, trying to put out of his mind everything except the coming battle. We’ll peel away those escorts, destroy all of them if necessary, and once the superbattleships are stripped of support, we’ll go after them. It sounded very easy. Actually doing it was going to be hard as hell.
But his attempt to concentrate was interrupted by a blip from his comm unit indicating that someone was trying to call. At least that was working right now.
No. It wasn’t working right. The incoming call was from Captain Vente, who had apparently finally realized that he had been completely sidelined since the loss of Invincible. But a call from Vente should have been automatically blocked.
Should he tell Tanya? She didn’t need distractions, either.
But if Dauntless’s comm system was acting up again, she needed to know, and he needed it fixed. “Captain Desjani, my comm settings aren’t being honored by the system.”
Her expression hardened. “Communications. The Admiral’s comms are not working properly. You have fifteen minutes to get everything functional, or this ship will have a new comm officer.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Geary made another effort to get his mind into battle readiness, only to have an alert flash red on his display. Before he could acknowledge it, the image of Spartan’s commanding officer appeared before him. “Admiral, half of my ship just went dark. Preliminary estimate is several power junctions failing nearly instantaneously.”
Damn. Damn. Damn. “Do you still have maneuvering and propulsion?”
“Yes, sir, we have propulsion. We’re jury-rigging maneuvering circuits to get around the problem on the port side and should have adequate capability within five minutes.”
It could be worse. It could be far worse. “How about replacing the power junctions?” Geary asked.
“We only have enough onboard spares to get five of the seven junctions that failed replaced.” Spartan’s captain looked grim. “I am ensuring all records are sealed and damage sites maintained except for necessary repair work. If this was sabotage or negligence, we will identify how it was done.”
“Thank you,” Geary said. “Good thinking. There’s a strong chance, unfortunately, that it was just equipment failure. Were you putting extra stress on your ship’s power systems before the loss of power?”
“Extra? Just preparations for action, sir. Running shields up to full power for a readiness check and powering up hell-lance batteries.”
Would he lose partial or full capability on other ships as they prepared for this engagement? “Let me know when you have full maneuvering capability again.” As the image of Spartan’s captain vanished, Geary called the fleet. “All units, ensure when preparing for action that you power up systems sequentially rather than simultaneously so as to avoid putting extra strain on power junctions.”
Captain Smythe was already calling in. “Admiral, preliminary analysis shows that the power junctions on Spartan failed one by one very rapidly. After the first went, the power distribution system automatically tried to route all power through the remaining ones. That overloaded another, there was another attempt to redistribute power, which sent even more power through the remaining junctions, one of those failed, and so on. One of the watch-standers in engineering on Spartan activated the manual override in time to keep the automated systems from blowing every junction on the ship.”
Far from being able to relax himself, Geary now had an impressive headache developing. “I thought there were automated safeguards against that kind of thing.”
“There are, but the power junctions aren’t the only systems deteriorating, Admiral. In this case, the automated safeguards didn’t kick in. It may take some time to figure out why, but I’ve already sent emergency engineering notices to all ships so they can be alert for that happening to them.”
Another alert appeared. Smythe must have seen it on his display, too, as he looked to one side with a startled expression. “Titan just lost a main propulsion unit. Cause unknown.”
Battle was looming, he hadn’t even gone into action yet, and already his ships were taking damage. Titan was sluggish under the best of circumstances. Without one of her main propulsion units . . . “Captain Smythe, I need that propulsion unit online and working again within the next twenty minutes.”
“I don’t even know what’s wrong with it yet, Admiral! Let alone what repairs will be required!”
“Whatever it is and whatever it takes, you have twenty minutes.”
“Very well, Admiral. But it has been months since I warned you of this problem developing. Be aware that as our ships boost power to systems and run tests in preparation for an engagement, we may see a sudden surge in similar failures popping up all over the place.”
Smythe had barely signed off before his words proved prophetic. More alerts rippled across Geary’s display. Dependable, ironically enough, reporting a sudden degradation of its combat systems during pre-engagement testing. Dragon and Victorious each reporting the loss of a hell-lance battery due to power-system failures. Witch losing partial shields capability. More hell-lance power failures on heavy cruisers Parapet, Chanfron, Diamond, and Ravelin, light cruisers Assault, Forte, and Retiarii, and destroyers Herebra, Cutlass, Stave, Rifle, and Flail. Another shield problem, this time on the light cruiser Rocket.
Geary sat back, his eyes on the bear-cow armada closing in and now barely one light-minute behind the Alliance fleet. A complicated battle had just become even more complicated.
SEVEN
“THERE’S one good thing about this,” Geary said as he waited through the last ten minutes before the first maneuver would take place.
“I’d love to know what that is,” Desjani replied.
“The bear-cows can’t tell how many of our ships are degraded and by how much. They have to treat every one of our ships as a full threat.”
“Except,” she pointed out, “the ships with degraded shields. The Kicks should be able to detect that.”
“Except those,” Geary conceded.
“What are you going to do if Titan can’t keep up?”
“Improvise.”
Desjani took a report, then nodded to Geary. “My comm officer swears on the honor of every ancestor he has that your comm system should be working perfectly, Admiral.”
“Admiral!” Captain Smythe looked weary, as if the last half hour had been a long day of intense work. “We’re helping to remotely direct repairs on the affected ships, but there are a lot of them.”
“I’m very well aware of that, Captain,” Geary replied. “How is Titan?”
“Commander Lommand has a fix in. He thinks it will work under stress.”
“Commander Lommand has a good track record,” Geary said. “I’m willing to trust his word on that. What about Witch? Can Captain Tyrosian get her shields fully up anytime soon?” The auxiliaries were as big a worry during a battle as they were a necessity between battles. As lightly prot
ected as they were, any lowering of their defenses had to be a major concern.
“She’s working on it,” Smythe said.
That left nothing else to do but wait, watching as an occasional ship’s status report upgraded as the sudden equipment failures were repaired. No, that wasn’t the right thing to call them, Geary thought. “Sudden equipment failure” implied that there was something unexpected about them. But as he had learned not long ago, these ships had only been designed to function for a few years in the expectation that they would be destroyed in battle before that time was up. Geary, and the end of the war with the Syndicate Worlds, had thrown off that expectation by keeping these warships in the line of battle longer than they had been designed to operate. Now internal system components were wearing out. Smythe and his auxiliary force were working to get those components upgraded and replaced, but it would be a long and difficult process.
In the meantime, he had to go into battle with ships whose systems were increasingly prone to “sudden” failure after two, three, or even four years of combat life.
“All units, execute preplanned maneuver Alpha One at time three zero.” He had trouble keeping his eyes off Titan as the remaining time elapsed. What would happen when Titan tried to use that balky propulsion unit? His first experience with Titan had involved propulsion problems, and now here he was again.
And that first time, his grandnephew, Michael Geary, had probably died aboard his ship Repulse, buying time for Titan.
Not again. Not this time.
“Here we go,” Desjani announced, as Dauntless’s thrusters pushed her bow up and over, followed by the kick of main propulsion as the battle cruiser curved up and to port along with about a third of the other warships in the disintegrating fleet formation.
The bear-cows would see the maneuvers very quickly, within fifty seconds of when they took place, but it would take them a while to figure out what the human fleet was doing. Then the bear-cows would have to decide what to do.
The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Invincible Page 13