Courageous tlf-3

by Jack Campbell

  Four major warships. Geary’s eyes raced across the display, adding up the rest of the Syndic force. Three heavy cruisers, five light cruisers, a dozen Hunter-Killers. Probably sent here to lay mines in front of the jump points and then leave a few light units behind to report if the Alliance fleet passed through the system. Instead, they’d been caught in the middle of laying the minefield. The Syndic warships weren’t a major threat to the Alliance fleet, not if he had time to set up an engagement. But the fleet was right on top of the Syndic warships, both formations tangling in a melee without time to plan or execute a careful plan of action. “All ships, engage nearest Syndic warships.”

  A squadron of destroyers had emerged from the jump point almost in the laps of the two Syndic battleships. The light warships swung away frantically, firing their few weapons, which sparkled futilely against the massive shields of the enemy battleships. The Syndic battleships fired back, their heavy armament shredding through the light shields of the destroyers and into the little armor the destroyers boasted. Kheten exploded under the barrage, and Epee was torn apart, its pieces tumbling away.

  The only thing that saved the rest of the destroyers in the squadron was the arrival of a squadron of Alliance light cruisers, flashing out of jump space and right into the arms of the Syndic battleships. The battleships greedily shifted fire to the new targets, ripping Glacis into fragments and smashing Aegis and Hauberk.

  But now the heavy cruisers and battle cruisers of the Alliance fleet had reached the Syndic battleships, bearing shields heavy enough to engage the enemy and enough firepower to instantly shift the odds drastically against the Syndics.

  Six of the Syndic Hunter-Killers had been escorting the battleships, and now five of them blew apart as a swarm of Alliance destroyers swept past the battleships and targeted their lighter counterparts. The last HuK tried to run but had no time to accelerate away before being pounded into scrap. Two light cruisers tried to hide behind the battleships but were pinned between three divisions of Alliance heavy cruisers and smashed. The single Syndic heavy cruiser with the battleships found itself facing Tulev’s battle cruiser division and blew up after a single volley from the big Alliance warships.

  “First, Second, and Fourth Battle Cruiser Divisions,” Geary ordered. “Disregard Syndic battleships and engage the enemy battle cruisers and their escorts.” He scanned the display, trying to figure out who else to order where. “Second, Fifth, and Seventh Battleship Divisions, get the Syndic battleships. All heavy cruisers attempt to engage the surviving Syndic escorts around the enemy battle cruisers. All lighter Alliance units engage targets of opportunity.” It amounted less to tactics than to simply trying to overwhelm the enemy forces as fast as possible, but that seemed the best option at the moment.

  And he also had to ensure against the Syndics trying a desperate counterblow. “Eighth and Tenth Battleship Divisions, guard the auxiliaries division. Make sure nothing gets through to them.” He didn’t know if all of those battleships would obey the command in the heat of battle, but if even a few did, it would provide necessary insurance.

  Eleven Alliance battle cruisers swung their bows around and accelerated toward the two Syndic battle cruisers, followed by a tangle of heavy cruiser divisions mixed in with light cruisers and destroyers. “Accelerate to point one light,” Captain Desjani ordered. “Up one five degrees, port zero four degrees. All weapons target the leading Syndic battle cruisers. Prepare to fire specters.”

  At the same time, the eleven Alliance battleships of the Second, Fifth, and Seventh Divisions bore down on the Syndic battleships. Geary saw the two surviving and combat-ready battleships of the Fourth Division also come around and swing toward the enemy battleships but didn’t try to order them away. Vengeance and Revenge owed the Syndics for the loss of Triumph at Vidha and the terrible damage suffered by Warrior at the same battle.

  Thirteen battleships tore into the Syndic battleships, the range too short to fire specter missiles. Instead, several of the closest Alliance ships hurled out grapeshot, the metal ball bearings slamming into enemy shields and vaporizing from the impacts. Then all of the Alliance battleships unleashed their hell-lance batteries from three sides, causing the weakened shields of the Syndic battleships to flare and collapse almost instantly. The hell lances then punched through armor and into the guts of the Syndic ships, tearing holes through which gusts of atmosphere vented as the enemy ships shuddered under the blows.

  Vengeance and Revenge ripped past at close range, firing their short-range null-field projectors. The glowing balls of the null fields met the hulls of the Syndic ships, causing atomic bonds to fail everywhere they passed. Sections of the enemy battleships vaporized inside the null fields, opening huge wounds in their hulls.

  The two Syndic battle cruisers could have tried to run as the Alliance battle cruisers bore down on them, but their commander apparently hesitated. The brief delay doomed both ships. “Fire specters,” Desjani ordered. As Dauntless fired a volley of missiles, the other Alliance battle cruisers followed suit, sending a flock of the autonomous missiles accelerating toward the enemy battle cruisers.

  The Syndics fired back, the surviving HuKs, light cruisers, and heavy cruisers placing themselves between the battle cruisers and the onrushing Alliance missiles. Despite their evasive maneuvers, speed, and stealth, a lot of specters flared and died short of their targets. But by concentrating their fire on the specters, the Syndic ships let the lighter Alliance ships close to firing range.

  HuKs flared and burst under the fire of Alliance destroyers and light cruisers, while the three Syndic light cruisers were riddled by fire from the heavy cruisers accompanying the Alliance battle cruisers.

  Then the Alliance battle cruisers reached engagement range for their hell lances. The leading battle Syndic cruiser seemed to glow as its shields absorbed hit after hit; then the shields collapsed and the hell lances began ravaging the ship itself.

  Geary held his breath, trying not to betray his concern as Desjani led Dauntless, Daring, and Victorious in a close pass against the stricken Syndic battle cruiser, firing null fields as they raced past. Here I was worried about risking any battle cruisers, and I’m throwing them into the thick of a battle, led by the one battle cruiser that I can’t afford to lose. If we lose Dauntless, we lose the Syndic hypernet key it carries. I have to come up with a solution to this problem.

  Not that the leading Syndic battle cruiser was a threat anymore. The null-field hits on top of the torrent of hell-lance fire had riddled the warship and left it a drifting wreck from which survival pods were bursting spasmodically as the surviving crew tried to find safety.

  Geary searched for the second Syndic battle cruiser, clenching his teeth as he saw that the battle cruiser’s commander had wrenched the big warship around and was accelerating toward the Alliance auxiliaries.

  “He doesn’t stand a chance,” Desjani observed.

  As the battle cruiser tore through the Alliance formation, it took hit after hit from destroyers, light cruisers, and heavy cruisers along its path. Each individual blow did little damage, but they kept adding up as the Syndic battle cruiser kept accelerating in an attempt to confuse the Alliance targeting systems. But without enough time and distance to get its speed high enough, the battle cruiser took more and more hits. It sliced past Illustrious and Incredible and staggered as the two Alliance battle cruisers poured fire into its port side.

  The Syndic battle cruiser kept going as the damage accumulated, running into wave after wave of fire.

  By the time it reached the battleships of the Tenth Battleship Division, the Syndic battle cruiser had taken so many hits that it was probably running blind, its sensors smashed, its remaining weapons flashing out futilely and gaining no hits. Only the battle cruiser’s main drives at the stern remained relatively undamaged, bringing the Syndic warship up past point one light as it kept accelerating.

  Amazon and Guardian, the closest Alliance battleships to the doomed Syndic battle cruiser�
��s path, fired volleys of grapeshot almost straight down the enemy ship’s course, the metal shot hitting the Syndic’s hull at a combined velocity of close to point two light speed.

  The front half of the Syndic battle cruiser vaporized under the impacts, the stern portion shuddering as it passed through the remains of the bow and then coming apart into a field of small fragments, some of which impacted harmlessly on the shields of Amazon and Guardian.

  Desjani sighed. “The entire crew of that battle cruiser must be dead.”

  Geary nodded in agreement. “No one could’ve survived that.”

  “Too bad.” Desjani looked toward Geary. “For the first time in my life, I really wanted to meet a Syndic. The commanding officer of that ship. He or she fought very gallantly.” She’d come a ways from the officer who Geary had first met, to whom the Syndic enemy were inhuman and beneath contempt. “It’s best he or she is dead, of course,” Desjani added matter-of-factly. “I’d hate to leave a Syndic like that alive.”

  “You’d hate to leave alive a Syndic officer that you respect?” Geary asked.

  Desjani lowered her brow slightly. “Respect? I couldn’t respect a Syndic, sir. How could anyone? Though this one died well. I just wanted to see what such a Syndic was like.”

  Geary shrugged. “Right now, they’re dead, blown into very small pieces along with their crew and their ship.”

  “Yes, sir.” Desjani smiled in reply.

  Maybe she hadn’t come that far. But then, Desjani was the daughter of a hundred years of war, a century of tit-for-tat atrocities. The enemy was as alien to her as the intelligences that Geary suspected lurked beyond Syndic space. “Let’s get this fleet straightened out. All units, well done.” Geary’s eyes locked on the display, where in one corner names in red told of Alliance ships lost: two destroyers and three light cruisers. A lot of other ships had taken damage during the melee. Some of the surviving destroyers might not be repairable and might have to be abandoned here, and at least one heavy cruiser had taken serious damage. “Assume Formation Delta One unless engaged in recovering Alliance survival pods.” He would have to figure out which warships were so badly hurt that they’d have to fall back with the auxiliaries to simplify repair efforts, joining the torn-up battleships Orion, Majestic, and Warrior in what was becoming a formation of crippled ships.

  Geary switched circuits and called down to the intelligence section. “See if you can find out if any of those Syndic survival pods have high-ranking officers in them.” He needed to know what the Syndics were doing and how the war was going along the border with the Alliance. Given the Syndic obsession with secrecy and keeping their own officers under tight control, odds were that even if the commander of the entire Syndic force had survived, he or she wouldn’t know the answers to that. But the longer Geary went without knowing, the more the questions gnawed at him. How long could he evade an enemy, most of whose movements were invisible to him?

  If the Alliance fleet had arrived in Daiquon half a day later, it would have run right into that minefield outside the jump point, and the Syndic picket ships would have escaped to tell their high command the path the Alliance ships were following.

  Any elation in the victory vanished as Geary stared at the names of the dead ships and the nearby reports of damage and crew casualties from other ships. It had been a small victory, dearly purchased.

  FIVE

  All things being equal, the transit through Daiquon to the jump point for Ixion should have required about five and a half days. The five substantial objects in orbit about the star Daiquon consisted of four barely planet-sized rocks and one massive supergiant that was just shy of enough mass to become a star in its own right. The small Syndic installations that had once occupied one of the rocks were all cold and had probably been mothballed long ago. There was absolutely no reason to linger in Daiquon and nothing capable of delaying the fleet.

  But the Alliance heavy cruiser Brilliant had been so badly hurt during the brief engagement that Geary had to slow the entire formation while Brilliant’s main propulsion units received emergency repairs. The only alternative to that was leaving Brilliant behind, and he wasn’t about to do that.

  But there wasn’t any choice when it came to the destroyers Sword-Breaker and Machete. Both had been so badly chewed up that only a major shipyard could have repaired them. Geary had the crews taken off and the ships’ power cores set to overload, turning both destroyers into slowly expanding balls of wreckage to join those already littering Daiquon as a result of the destruction of the Syndic warships. His other ships could use the officers and sailors from the lost destroyers, but it still hurt morale to have to scuttle two ships.

  A score of other destroyers, three more light cruisers, and one more heavy cruiser had joined the three battleships in the makeshift division of badly damaged ships near the auxiliaries division. Geary tried to salve the pride of those ships by officially designating them a close support escort force for the auxiliaries, but he feared their unhappiness with being assigned to a place far from the front of any battle would breed further problems down the line. They’ll be upset, even though it’s the only decision that makes any sense. But then what about war has anything to do with making sense?

  Geary closed his eyes, trying to block out the images of dying ships and their crews. His stateroom was very quiet, only the faint sounds that spoke of Dauntless being a living ship penetrating the bulkheads to provide familiar comfort. Vent fans humming as they distributed and cooled air, pumps churning as liquids went here and there, barely audible voices of members of the crew passing near, perhaps accompanied by the low rumble of a transport cart. For how many centuries had sailors heard those sounds around them? Before that there had been the creaking of wood and rigging on ships that used sails to carry them across planetary oceans. Ships were never completely silent, not while they lived.

  “Captain Geary? This is Lieutenant Iger in the intelligence section.”

  He hit the comm pad to accept the call. “This is Geary. What’ve you got?”

  “We’ve analyzed the communications between the survival pods from the Syndic warships we destroyed, and as far as we can tell, all of the senior officers died on their ships. None of the pods seem to contain anyone who’s trying to assert authority or coordinating activity.”

  No sense in diverting any of his own ships to pick up prisoners who wouldn’t know anything useful. “Are they all still headed for the mothballed installation in this system?”

  “Yes, sir,” Iger confirmed. “There’s no place else for them to go.”

  “How long can they survive on what’s in the pods and whatever’s at that base?” So far, the Alliance fleet had found either emergency rations or simply food abandoned in place, frozen on airless worlds, at every derelict Syndic facility they’d examined.

  “The pods contain enough provisions for a couple of weeks, assuming they’re all full of survivors. They can stretch that, of course. Even if most of the ships were supposed to stay here to see if we showed up, Syndic procedure is to send a courier ship to report mission completion, in this case laying the minefields. When the enemy leaders in the nearby systems don’t hear from the warships in Daiquon, they’ll send someone to check on them. There may already be a ship on the way.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” No sense in diverting a ship to pick up any pods containing Syndic sailors. He could make sure this fleet sent a message to the Syndic authorities on the inhabited world in Ixion Star System when they got there, ensuring the Syndics knew they had people awaiting rescue here.

  Geary tried to drop back into his reverie, but an instant later his hatch alert chimed. “Come in,” Geary called resignedly without opening his eyes.

  After a short interval, he heard a dry voice. “Congratulations on another victory.”

  Geary’s eyes shot open. Victoria Rione stood in the entry. As she saw him gaze at her, she stepped inside, the hatch sealing in her wake, and came to sit across from Geary. Unlike Desjani,
Rione leaned back, almost casual, but in the manner of a cat who could spring at any moment. “What’s the occasion?” Geary asked.

  “I told you. I came to congratulate you.”

  “Like hell.” Geary gestured angrily. “You’ve spent weeks avoiding me. Why’d you decide to finally show up here again?”

  Rione looked away. “I have my reasons. We lost a ship from the Callas Republic in that battle you just fought.”

  “I know. Glacis. I’m sorry. We lost about half of her crew but were able to rescue the rest. The survivors were distributed among other ships from the Callas Republic.”

  “Thank you.” Rione’s jaw clenched. “I should have seen to that myself. It’s my responsibility.”

  “No, it’s mine, as fleet commander, but I would have welcomed your assistance in the matter. And, to put it bluntly, Madam Co-President, the ships of the Callas Republic are wondering why you haven’t been in closer contact with them.”

  “I have my reasons,” Rione repeated after a long moment of silence.

  “You could share them,” Geary suggested. “Didn’t you once advise me to talk about my problems?”

  “Did I? Have you been lonely?” she added abruptly.

  “I missed you, yes.”

  “I’m not the only woman on this ship, Captain Geary.”

  “You’re the only one I can touch,” Geary replied sharply. “You know that. Everyone else in this fleet works for me.”

  She gazed at him, her feelings hidden as usual. “You had no one else to talk to?”

  “A few times. Captain Duellos. Captain Desjani.”

  “Oh?” It was still impossible to tell what Rione was feeling. “Captain Desjani? Did you discuss various ways to slaughter Syndics?”

  That almost sounded like Rione’s old, acerbic teasing. Geary weighed his response, then decided to be open about it. “Mostly just operational things, yes. But we did talk about Kosatka once. I told her I’d like to visit there when we get back.”