The Lost Fleet: Relentless

by Campbell, Jack

  He accepted the message, seeing Howitzer’s commanding officer’s jaw drop as she saw Geary. “What were your orders, Captain?” he asked.

  It took Howitzer’s commanding officer a moment to recover. “Uh, sir, we had orders to maintain position near this jump point, acting as scout and courier as necessary.”

  “Very well. I understand that’s not the most glamorous assignment, but it’s a very important one. Remain on station. If the Syndics succeed in causing the collapse of the hypernet gate here, you’ll see them destroying the tethers. Do not wait to view the collapse of the gate. If you do, you’ll be destroyed by the wave front coming out of it. You’ll be able to tell when it’s close to collapse. You’ll have to jump before that and report that Varandal has probably been destroyed.”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Geary sat and gazed at the display after the image of Howitzer’s captain vanished, thinking of everything that could go wrong. “Tanya, what should the battle cruisers’ fuel-cell reserves be at when we meet the Syndics?”

  “Roughly fifteen percent, sir, more or less depending on what the Syndics do.”

  “How many fuel cells does the fleet use in a typical engagement?”

  Desjani spread her hands. “One of your typical engagements or one of the engagements before you assumed command, sir?”

  “Mine.”

  “You don’t have a typical engagement, sir.” She smiled encouragingly. “We can do it with fifteen percent.”

  “If faith were fuel cells, Captain Desjani, you could power this entire fleet.”

  “I’m not the only one with faith, Captain Geary.” Her eyes indicated the watch-standers on the bridge, who were calmly or excitedly discussing events. None of them betrayed dread or uncertainty. “They don’t fear the outcome here.”

  About five hours later Geary watched his display. In a window there, Captain Jane Geary was acknowledging her orders, her posture and voice stiff, her eyes blazing. She had a haggard appearance, obviously worn by the extended battle that had been fought here before the Alliance fleet arrived. He’d known that because of the century he’d spent in survival sleep, Jane Geary had aged more years than he despite being his grandniece, but it was still odd to see her a bit older than he, her great-uncle. “This is Captain Jane Geary, acknowledging orders from the acting fleet commander. Understand we are to fight to the death to prevent the Syndics from destroying the hypernet gate. Geary out.”

  She avoided saying his name, but she wasn’t disputing his authority. For a moment Geary felt a twinge of resentment that Jane Geary hadn’t saluted, then recalled that no one outside of the fleet would use a gesture that he had reintroduced to the fleet. Her omission hadn’t been an insult.

  Jane Geary had clearly understood the orders to stop the Syndics at all costs. Had she also understood that she had to keep her task force from being destroyed for as long as possible consistent with that?

  “Are you all right, sir?” Desjani asked casually.

  “I’m just wishing my family reunions could take place under less stressful circumstances. Wait. The Syndics are reacting.” Two and a half hours ago, the Syndic reserve flotilla had altered course, angling down and over toward the hypernet gate. Geary ran the courses out, seeing that the Syndics would reach the gate before his battle cruisers could. “It’s up to Jane Geary. Can she slow them down?”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  The remaining defenders in the Dreadnaught task force had fallen back before the Syndics, maintaining their distance as the enemy headed for them and the hypernet gate. Geary watched as the retreat continued for almost half an hour, wondering what Jane Geary would do.

  The answer came as the display reported mine strikes against ships of the Syndic reserve flotilla. “Nice,” Desjani approved. “They waited until the Syndics were fixed on a course pursuing them, then laid mines in their wake. Look. That Syndic battle cruiser took three hits.”

  “They lost one of their heavy cruisers, too,” Geary noted. None of the other Syndic warships seemed crippled, but even that small blow helped even the odds a bit.

  But the Syndics kept coming, until fifteen minutes later another flurry of mine strikes took out two HuKs and damaged several other ships. “How many mines has she got?” Desjani wondered.

  “The Syndics are probably asking themselves the same question.”

  This time the Syndic reserve flotilla didn’t hold course, instead accelerating and climbing to alter its intercept of the Dreadnaught task force. But the Alliance ships responded by coming around and dodging to one side, putting the Syndics into another stern chase, this time at an angle away from the hypernet gate. “She’s trying to draw them off,” Desjani noted approvingly. “She is a Geary.”

  But the entire Syndic reserve flotilla didn’t pursue. Instead, the Syndic box split, with a half dozen battleships, two battle cruisers, and a bevy of escorts wearing around to go after Dreadnaught while the rest of the Syndics continued toward the hypernet gate.

  “What’s she—?” Before Geary could finish the question, Dreadnaught, Dependable, Intemperate, and their escorts had come around again, charging at the Syndic warships pursuing them. The odds were still far too bad, though. He waited with a sick feeling, knowing that whatever had happened had taken place two hours ago.

  Then the two groups of warships were diverging again, with no losses visible on either side. “She avoided them. They expected her to charge straight at them and instead she dodged enough to one side to avoid any hits on her force.” Desjani was watching the display with an intrigued look. “Sir, Dreadnaught is deliberately avoiding the Syndics. She’s figured out that as long as her warships are anywhere near that hypernet gate, the Syndics can’t send the heavy cruisers to collapse it while the rest of them run, because Dreadnaught and her companions could finish off the heavy cruisers easily.”

  “Some of the Syndics would have to agree to a suicide mission,” Geary agreed. “This isn’t like at Lakota. Those ships know what will happen when they drop that gate. Could the Syndic reserve flotilla commander convince enough ships to stay near it anyway to protect against the Dreadnaught task force?”

  “I doubt it. A small group of Special Forces commandos on suicide missions are one thing, but ships’ crews? That’s not in the job description.”

  He called down to Lieutenant Iger. “I need to know your assessment of whether or not Syndic ships would knowingly undertake a suicide mission.”

  Iger shook his head. “Not typically, sir. Fighting to the death, yes. But Syndic ships usually are not known to conduct suicide missions.” He paused. “There’s something that may bear on this, sir. The Syndic prisoner aboard Dauntless has been receiving medical care. The doctors tell us she’s traumatized by witnessing the destruction of Kalixa Star System and needs sedation to sleep.”

  “I’m not too surprised to hear that, Lieutenant,” Geary said, “but how does that bear on the current situation?”

  “Sir, remember that she told us that the Syndic CEOs in the reserve flotilla ordered her to send them copies of her cruiser’s records of that event. That means Syndic officers in the reserve flotilla, some of them anyway, have seen the events at Kalixa that had such a strong impact on our prisoner.”

  “I see.” If viewing the relatively less horrible scenes at Lakota had created revulsion in his own officers, what effect would viewing something worse have on the Syndics? “I assume the reserve flotilla CEOs are keeping those records under wraps, though.”

  Iger smiled. “They’re surely trying, sir. But Syndic systems are just like ours, riddled with back doors and unofficial subnets. You can’t build and maintain nets that complex without creating the means for such things, and we know personnel in the Syndic forces exploit them just like our people do.”

  “So maybe a lot of Syndics in that flotilla have seen those records from Kalixa. Thank you, Lieutenant.” He looked back to Rione and filled her and Desjani in on what Iger had said.

&n
bsp; Desjani nodded when he finished. “I know seeing what happened at Lakota cured me of any lingering desire to collapse a gate using Dauntless.”

  “Can’t the Syndic CEOs in command of the flotilla assume automated control of any ship?” Rione asked. “They did that at Sancere.”

  “They could,” Geary agreed, “but the crews of those Syndic ships at Sancere managed to regain some control before they were destroyed. I think it’s safe to assume the crews of these Syndic ships are primed to override any automatic controls. They already know the consequences if they don’t.”

  “Then as long as Dreadnaught avoids destruction, we’ve got a chance,” Desjani exulted.

  “Looks like it.” Geary sent another message to Dreadnaught summarizing their latest assessment. “I have to admit that I’m surprised that Jane Geary is avoiding engaging the Syndics. It’s exactly what we need her to do, but it’s not characteristic of, uh . . .”

  “The way this fleet fought before you came back?” Desjani asked. “It isn’t. We wondered why a Geary was in command of a battleship rather than a battle cruiser, remember? There’s your answer. Insufficiently aggressive.”

  Meaning she thought about tactics instead of relying upon head-on charges against the enemy. Dreadnaught and Dependable were both living up to their names, but Intemperate wasn’t. Geary felt a renewed hope that he’d get a chance to know Jane Geary. He checked the time remaining until the Alliance battle-cruiser force’s arrival in the vicinity of the Syndic flotilla. Nineteen hours. “Captain Desjani, have we heard anything from the authorities in Varandal?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Not even any ‘garbled’ messages?”

  “No, sir. We haven’t picked up any orders sent to Dreadnaught , either. It looks like they’re going to let you run this battle.”

  “Lucky me. How much longer until the Illustrious task force shows up here, do you think?”

  Desjani frowned in thought. “Another several hours at the earliest. After picking up the escape pods in Atalia, they couldn’t accelerate up to anything near point one light without nearly draining their last fuel-cell reserves. Badaya’s no genius, but he isn’t stupid enough to do that.”

  Geary adjusted the courses of his battle cruisers to reflect the movements of the Syndics, then sent a similar adjustment to the battleships. There wasn’t anything else he could do at the moment except watch the Syndics keep trying to engage the Dreadnaught task force while the Alliance ships kept dancing out of reach.

  They were still ten hours from reaching the vicinity of the Syndic reserve flotilla when the Syndic CEO apparently lost all patience. The Syndic box formations came apart as nearly every ship within them went after the Dreadnaught task force independently. Only four Syndic battleships remained in a formation, positioned around ten heavy cruisers with a cluster of light cruisers and HuKs providing additional escort. “There are the heavy cruisers they’re going to use against the gate. Dodging all of those other ships is going to be hard for Dreadnaught,” Geary commented with a tight feeling inside. Against faster and more maneuverable battle cruisers, cruisers, and HuKs coming from multiple directions, battleships couldn’t hope to evade for long.

  The Dreadnaught task force didn’t try. Instead, the Alliance defenders accelerated onto a vector aimed at the small Syndic battleship/heavy-cruiser formation, boring right through the swarm of Syndic combatants between themselves and their targets.

  First one, then two, then three Alliance destroyers blew apart or reeled away, all systems dead. The sole light cruiser with Dreadnaught came apart under fire from a dozen Syndics racing past. An Alliance heavy cruiser shuddered as numerous missiles hit, then exploded. Intemperate took hit after hit, but kept going. Another destroyer shattered into fragments.

  Then the Alliance task force was through the enemy throng and bearing down on the small Syndic formation.

  The four Syndic battleships threw out missiles and grapeshot, but the Alliance ships had split and managed to avoid too many hits. Another Alliance heavy cruiser and two more destroyers blew up under the barrage, though.

  The Dreadnaught task force tore through the Syndic formation, the battleships Dreadnaught and Dependable screening the battle cruiser Intemperate from the fire of the Syndic battleships, while every Alliance ship focused its fire on the Syndic heavy cruisers.

  Geary watched the formations diverge, waiting with a sick feeling to see the display update as the fleet’s sensors evaluated the results.

  “Wow,” Desjani commented. Eight of the ten Syndic heavy cruisers were gone, either blown apart or knocked out. “Give that woman command of a battle cruiser. So much for the Syndic plan. They’re going to need to decrew some more heavy cruisers.”

  “Yeah.” Geary shook his head as he looked at what was left of the Dreadnaught task force. Dreadnaught and Dependable had both taken damage but remained formidable. Hits to Intemperate had taken out almost half her weapons and slowed her to the point where she could just keep up with the battleships. Of the escorts, only two heavy cruisers and a sole destroyer had survived the latest firing pass. “She can’t do that again.”

  “Maybe one more time,” Desjani disagreed. “But only the two battleships would make it through. If she’s smart, she’ll try to avoid the Syndics for a while.”

  The mass of independently maneuvering Syndic warships had come around and was trying to intercept the Dreadnaught task force once more, but the diminished Alliance formation had kept on toward the hypernet gate. “It’ll take them a while to catch those ships,” Geary said, “but not nine hours.” The engagements with Varandal’s defenders before the fleet arrived had cost the Syndics as well as the Alliance. But after the latest clash, the reserve flotilla still boasted fourteen battleships, eleven battle cruisers, eight heavy cruisers, thirty-three light cruisers, and eighty-five HuKs. “Eight heavy cruisers left. Would that be enough for the Syndics to collapse the gate?”

  “That depends how long they had to keep shooting.” Desjani shook her head. “That CEO has got to be realizing that he or she can’t stick with the original plan. Dreadnaught and her companions are buying us too much time. The Syndics are going to do something different.”

  Geary’s unease suddenly crystallized. “They’re going to try to defeat this formation, then take out our battleships when they get here. After that, they can take as long as they need to nail what’s left of the Dreadnaught task force, then blow the gate at their leisure.”

  Desjani nodded. “It’s what I’d do.”

  “But we don’t have enough fuel-cell reserves to run rings around the Syndics until the battleships catch up.”

  “Do the Syndics know that?”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  Seven hours out. Four Syndic battleships had continued in pursuit of the Dreadnaught task force. The rest of the Syndic reserve flotilla was re-forming into the conventional box formation, the surviving heavy cruisers well protected in the center. Geary pondered options, knowing that if he tried ramming his battle cruisers through the center of that Syndic box to get the heavy cruisers he might succeed, but that none of his battle cruisers might survive to exit on the other side of the Syndic flotilla.

  Six hours from contact. The Syndic reserve flotilla, its box formation tight and compact, turned toward the oncoming Alliance battle cruisers. “You called it, Captain Desjani. We’re outnumbered two to one in capital ships, but more importantly with all those battleships, the Syndics have at least a three-to-one advantage in firepower and armor.” His eyes went to the four Syndic battleships that had been chasing the Dreadnaught task force but had altered course to form a screen between the Alliance ships and the main Syndic formation.

  It was as if Desjani read his mind. “Four battleships. We can take them.”

  “If we do it right.” He looked at the position of the Alliance battleships, coming on steadily but over an hour behind the battle cruisers. Fuel-cell reserves were dwindling on every ship. Geary focused on Rifle, now at 6 perc
ent reserves, the lowest in the fleet. “I should have left Rifle at the jump point.”

  “Her crew would never have forgiven you.”

  He set up the approach carefully, adjusting the battle cruisers so they seemed to be heading straight for a clash with the Syndic box, bringing the battleships’ vector over a little so they’d reach the Syndics at the right time, finding the right point at which to change course again.

  “How much longer?” Rione asked. She’d been sitting so quietly for so long that it was easy to forget she was there at the back of the bridge.

  “The Syndics are coming at us now,” Geary explained “Two hours, forty minutes to contact, give or take a few. They’ll get their surprise at two hours, twenty minutes.”

  “They may expect it,” Desjani pointed out. “Dreadnaught ’s been doing the same thing.”

  “Good point. We’ll dodge in an unusual way.”

  At one hour from contact, the Dreadnaught task force had altered course to close the four Syndic battleships, which in turn had come around to confront the small Alliance task force. With Dreadnaught only about fifteen light-minutes distant, Geary sent more orders. “Captain Geary, this is . . . Captain Geary. Avoid closing on the four Syndic battleships at this time. We’re coming that way and will see if we can even up the odds for you.”

  No acknowledgment came back even though the transit times for messages between Dreadnaught and Dauntless were only fifteen minutes each way now. With less than half an hour to contact with the Syndic reserve flotilla, Geary couldn’t spend time worrying about whether or not Jane Geary would do as directed. “All units in Alliance formation Indigo One. We’re going to bypass the main Syndic formation this time, hit those four battleships, then come back and hit the flotilla. Save your remaining expendable munitions for the firing pass against the flotilla.”

  Twenty minutes to contact, the Syndic reserve flotilla and the Alliance battle cruisers were only four light-minutes apart as they tore toward each other at a combined pace of point two light speed, the Syndics having cut their velocity to point six light speed to keep relativistic distortion from reducing their chances of hitting the Alliance warships. Geary waited, not yet happy with the maneuvering solution.