Behind them all, the auxiliaries were climbing straight “up” and away from the path of the Syndics. “All units, weapons free as soon as the enemy enters your weapons engagement envelopes.”
The Syndic formation was altering at the last moments before contact, too, shrinking down to much smaller dimensions, concentrating the ships into a tight block aimed at the center of the main Alliance formation. “If we’d aimed at the edges of his formation,” Desjani observed, “we would have found ourselves too far out to score hits as his formation shrank. Good call, Admiral. Weapons,” she called that watch-stander, “target the enemy flagship.”
“One minute to contact,” the maneuvering watch-stander announced.
Missiles leaped from warships, filling the space between the flotilla and the Alliance fleet, followed within moments by barrages of grapeshot and hell-lance fire, then on the Alliance side, the battleships and battle cruisers fired their null-field weapons.
Instead of avoiding the glancing blows from the Alliance subformations and hitting the single thin layer of the main formation, the Syndic flotilla found itself running headlong into three layers of Alliance warships, the first and last layers moving rapidly at almost right angles to the Syndic movement and hard to target, but hurling out their weapons along the vector the Syndic flotilla was coming down.
Space flared bright as weapons clashed, and ships exploded, the Syndics ramming through the first Alliance subformation, which held more battleships than the entire Syndic flotilla, then hitting the main body with almost as many battleships and some battle cruisers, before staggering through the third subformation, with its battle cruisers and numerous escorts tearing at the weakened Syndic warships.
Coming close behind the Syndics, Duellos led the strike force through the Alliance formations in a heart-stopping maneuver that took only fractions of a second, then slammed fire into the rear of the Syndic flotilla.
It had taken less than a second for the two forces to clash, and now as they separated again, Geary felt Dauntless still shaking from the impacts of enemy hits. He tried not to focus on the damage to Dauntless, concentrating instead on the assessments pouring in from the fleet sensors as they evaluated the results of the clash.
“Have a nice trip to hell,” Desjani snarled at her display as she directed damage-control efforts.
He knew what she meant. All fifteen of the remaining Syndic battle cruisers were gone, including the flagship, torn apart or exploded into fragments by the successive layers of Alliance battleships and battle cruisers. CEO Shalin wouldn’t be ruling the Syndicate Worlds.
Of the twelve Syndic battleships, six were still lurching forward with heavy damage, but those were being overhauled and knocked out one by one by Duellos’s strike force. The rest of the enemy battleships were already out of commission and spitting out swarms of escape pods.
Out of nearly two hundred Hunter-Killers, less than a dozen were left, the small warships annihilated by the amount of firepower concentrated on the space they had traversed. Ten light cruisers had survived, five of them still able to run at full speed, and nearly twenty heavy cruisers were still operational, having been small enough to avoid fire aimed at the battleships and battle cruisers and large enough to survive the weapons that had almost wiped out the smaller warships.
Duellos called in, looking quite pleased with events. “We might need some help on a couple of these battleships, but otherwise things went quite well. You might be interested in knowing that as my formation approached yours, and you exchanged fire with the Syndics, our sensors reported the heaviest recorded density of weapons usage and tried to warn us off.”Inspire was opening the distance once more, but still less than a light-minute away, so something resembling a conversation was possible. “That’s another one of those things I don’t think I want to do again. I’m going to get the fleet turned around, so if you need any assistance, just call.”
He gave the necessary orders, pulling the four subformations back toward each other as they turned through wide swaths of space, then forced himself to face the hard part. Witch headed off toward an intercept with the crippled Agile, accompanied by the battleship Guardian, which should be all the escort needed now that the Syndic flotilla had ceased to exist.
On Geary’s display, red symbols and text told the tale of the price the Alliance had paid during the brutal exchange of fire with the Syndics.
The battleships and escorts in the Fox Five Three subformation had been the first in line and taken the brunt of the Syndic fire. It only now registered on Geary that Dreadnaught had been one of those battleships. He had sent his grandniece into danger without even realizing it, caught up in the planning and execution of the battle. Dreadnaught had been battered but hadn’t sustained critical damage. Orion, still a bad-luck ship, had taken the most damage and would need a lot of repair work. Aside from them, the four battleships Fearless, Resolution, Redoubtable, and War-spite seemed to have been in the wrong places at the wrong time and received the most damage from the Syndic fire.
In the main body, the Syndics had tried to hit the four battle cruisers, assuming one held Geary. Even though the enemy blows had already been seriously blunted, the four battle cruisers had suffered. Daring took the most hits, but Dauntless was far from unscathed. “How many dead?” he asked Desjani.
She sighed. “Ten confirmed. Three more might not make it. We can get all the damage repaired within a week and be at full readiness again.”
Multiply those losses by how many ships in the fleet, and the price once again seemed far too high.
Amazingly, in the third layer the Syndics had penetrated, the most damage by far had been sustained by the new Invincible. I’ve heard of threat magnets, but it’s like the Invincible literally attracted enemy fire.
Like the battleships in Fox Five Three, the escorts had caught hell, which was why he hadn’t put any destroyers or light cruisers in that formation. Four heavy cruisers, Menpo, Hoplite, Bukhtar, and Squamata, were either gone or clearly too badly damaged to repair. Another eleven had been badly shot up. In the other subformations, twenty destroyers had been knocked out or torn apart, along with six light cruisers. That was in addition to the battle cruiser Assert, lost earlier.
“It could have been a lot worse,” Desjani observed.
“You usually say that.”
“Because it’s usually true. We’ve crushed the Syndics here, in their home star system, and for the time being they have nothing left except those heavy cruisers and other surviving escorts running for their lives.”
Geary looked around, seeing the watch-standers exchanging grins, knowing that all through the fleet, personnel would be remembering the losses in the ambush before Geary assumed command and celebrating the turnabout in their fortunes as well as the vengeance on the Syndic CEO responsible. He tried to shake off the melancholy he felt over the men and women who had died to bring about the victories here and in other star systems, tried to lift his mood to match that of the rest of the people on Dauntless’s bridge.
He hadn’t quite succeeded when that mood was abruptly shattered by the stunned voice of the operations watch-stander. “The hypernet gate is collapsing.”
NINE
Geary jerked his attention back to his display, where the hypernet gate depiction was pulsing red in warning. Now? What kind of cruel joke would it be for everything to end that way after defeating every other challenge? “How much time left until it collapses?”
No answer. Geary looked back and saw the watch-stander, along with every other watch-stander, staring aghast at their displays.
Desjani’s voice, hard, louder than usual, cut across the bridge. “The admiral asked you for the system estimate of the time until collapse.”
The lieutenant jerked back to awareness. “I’m sorry, Captain. Sir, fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Geary asked.
“Yes, sir. That’s all. It’s going down very fast.”
Geary closed his eyes, took
a deep breath, then looked back at the display. “That’s not enough time to get the fleet into the defensive formation.”
“No, sir,” Desjani agreed, her voice quieter now.
Geary triggered the appropriate comm circuit. “All units in the Alliance fleet, this is Admiral Geary. As you are aware, the hypernet gate here is collapsing. We have been informed that the catastrophic-fail function has been disabled, but could not confirm that, nor do we know whether or not the safe-fail system is functioning properly. We cannot predict the level of the energy discharge. All ships are to position themselves bow on to the hypernet gate location and maximize forward shields.” There had to be something else to say, in what might be his last transmission. “If worse comes to worst, the remnants of central power for the Syndicate Worlds’ government and mobile forces will be destroyed along with this fleet. Our sacrifice will not be in vain, and our children will be free of this war.”
Rione burst onto the bridge and stood staring at the display before the observer seat, before dropping into it. Her eyes didn’t seem to be watching the display, though. Geary wondered what she was looking at in her mind’s eye. “How are negotiations going?” he asked, amazed that he could actually ask the question with sarcasm rather than bitterness.
Rione shook her head quickly, then focused on Geary. “The Syndics were as shocked as we were. When I left, they were screaming that they hadn’t done it, that no collapse order had been sent, that the catastrophic-fail algorithms could not still be operational.”
What to say to that? “Thank you.”
“Five minutes to collapse,” the operations watch-stander announced in a strained voice.
“Forward shields at maximum,” the combat-systems watch-stander reported.
“Very well.” Desjani was massaging her forehead lightly with the tips of the fingers of one hand, hiding her expression. She glanced at Geary and just for a moment smiled wistfully. “If worse comes to worst, it’s been nice knowing you.”
“Same here.” Possibly only a few minutes left, but they couldn’t even touch hands. They had maintained their honor up to now, and they would end that way if that was what fate decreed.
The hypernet gate had actually collapsed more than seven hours ago. The light from that event was finally reaching them, and any shock wave soon would as well. Geary watched his display, part of him marveling at the fact that everything on it closer to the hypernet gate might already be gone.
“One minute.” The watch-stander’s voice cracked.
“Very well,” Desjani repeated, her voice composed but getting louder again. “We will meet this as Dauntless and her crew have met every danger, with honor and courage.”
A chorus of assents from the watch-standers followed her words. Desjani gave Geary another smile. He nodded back to her. Rione was staring fixedly into space again.
“Thirty seconds until estimated arrival of shock wave … ten seconds … five seconds … four … three … two … one.”
The moment came and passed, just as it had at Lakota. “Get me an updated estimate if you can, Lieutenant,” Desjani ordered.
“Yes, Captain, I—Captain?” The operations watch-stander was studying his display intently. “I think it’s happened. Yes. One second after the estimate. The energy discharge from the gate was so small that our instruments barely registered it. We’ve got a clear view of where the gate was and all the intervening space. The gate is gone, but everything is fine.”
“I’ll be damned.” Desjani turned a baffled gaze on Geary. “Those Syndic CEOs told the truth.”
He felt light-headed as he nodded in reply. “It looks like they did. We’re all still alive.”
“A miracle,” Desjani said, shaking her head. “I mean, yes, we’re alive, but Syndic CEOs told the truth. I never expected that to happen.”
“I guess we owe the living stars thanks for that miracle and for the fact that we’re still alive.” Geary tapped his controls. “All units in the Alliance fleet, this is Admiral Geary. The safe-fail mechanism on the hypernet gate functioned properly. The threat is past. Continue previously assigned operations.” He turned back to look at Rione. “I believe you can return to your negotiations, Madam Co-President.”
Rione stood up, smiling. “I will do that, Admiral. I’ll also light a candle to Captain Cresida tonight.”
As Rione left, Geary looked toward Desjani. “Remind me to do the same.”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you about that,” she told him in a voice almost as scolding as the one previously aimed at her watch-standers. “But I will, before I light one for her, too. Now, why did that gate collapse?”
“Someone loyal to the former Syndic leaders, and willing to die themselves, might have sent the order,” Geary speculated. “Or …”
“Yes. Or our mysterious enemies. Somehow they figured out we were here and sent the collapse order.” Desjani leaned back, her posture still tense. “If they had sent that order earlier, before the Syndics deactivated the catastrophic-collapse routines, they would have decapitated the Syndicate Worlds and wiped out the Alliance fleet.”
“Nice for them.” Geary rubbed his chin, thinking about unfinished business. “It’s not going to end here, is it?”
“Hell, no, sir.”
“There’s a way the aliens could have found out we were here, and that’s through the Syndic ships.” Geary drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Some of the Syndic warships, especially the battleships, are crippled but still intact. We need to get some of our ships over to them to ‘provide assistance.’ ” Desjani raised disbelieving eyebrows at him. “We’ll get some people aboard them, whether they like it or not. We’ll make a humanitarian gesture, assist with wounded and evacuating crew who couldn’t get off in escape pods. We’ll also examine the Syndic operating systems for the alien worms while we’re doing that.”
Desjani’s expression cleared. “If the worms are there, we’ll know the Syndics don’t know about them.”
“Exactly. And it will tell us how the aliens learned we were here. If the worms aren’t there, it could mean the Syndics have also figured out how to neutralize them, or it could mean the aliens chose not to spy on the Syndics.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t place any money on that second possibility. Whatever those things are, they seem to have pushed for every advantage they can get.” Desjani shook her head. “But the cover story will be that we’re helping the Syndics. Even you aren’t going to have a lot of sailors volunteering for those boarding teams.”
“I know.” Geary grinned. “But I’ve got a lot of Marines.”
General Carabali took her orders in stride, only the smallest smile betraying her satisfaction when she learned the real reason for the aid missions. “Admiral, I recommend you send the battleships and battle cruisers carrying my Marines very close to the stricken Syndic warships. With the fleet firepower looming close, it will lessen any chance that the Syndic crews might attempt resistance that could cause further damage to their systems.”
Not to mention further damaging the Syndic crews themselves. “Good idea. We’re putting the plan together now. I’ll notify you as soon as the ships are selected, so you can brief your Marines. If you need any fleet-system expert assistance, just let me know, and I’ll round up enough ‘volunteers.’ ”
“Thank you, sir. I have a number of Marine systems personnel who should be able to fill the need, but they might require briefings on the worms they’re looking for since you say they’re based on an unusual principle.”
“Very unusual, General. I’ll make sure the systems-security officers on the assigned ships are standing by to provide those briefings.”
He once again tried to relax. Unless the star literally went nova without warning, there shouldn’t be any other threat capable of endangering his fleet. But as the last Syndic battleship went dark under the fire from Duellos’s strike force, Geary called down to the politicians. “You might inform the new Executive Council that if th
ey assure us the surviving warships from the flotilla will not attack, then we will avoid destroying those warships.”
Rione smiled humorlessly. “I believe the new Syndic leaders are eager to ensure the continued existence of as many of the remaining warships as they can. Congratulations on your victory, Admiral.”
“Thank you. I’m counting on you to turn that victory into peace.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
The next several hours had enough distractions to pass fairly quickly as elements of the Alliance fleet closed on some of the derelict Syndic battleships and began sending over Marine Assistance Teams, which didn’t appear to vary all that much in composition, armor, and armament from Marine Assault Squads. “A MAT has a primarily noncombat mission and a MAS has a primary combat mission,” General Carabali explained. “Of course, each is configured so that a MAT can switch to carrying out the mission of a MAS, and vice versa.”
“Basically, then,” Geary said, “they’re exactly the same thing with different names.”
“No, sir,” Carabali replied seriously. “They’re different things with exactly the same capabilities. Tactical instructions are very clear on that.”
Debating semantics with a Marine who had official definitions on her side didn’t seem like a winning way to spend time, so Geary accepted whatever logic was at work and went back to watching the Marines comb through the wrecks of the Syndic battleships. He gave in to temptation a few times and pulled up images from some of the Marines, command and control video that offered the exact view those Marines saw through their helmet visors. But the interior of every Syndic battleship looked about the same, intensive damage having reduced the wrecks to an ugly sameness. Where surviving Syndic sailors were found alive but marooned without working escape pods, the Marines insisted that the Syndics accompany them off the derelicts, which (General Carabali assured Geary) was not at all the same as taking the Syndics prisoner.
Victorious tlf-6 Page 23
