At the velocities the ships were moving, CEO Grandon’s flotilla went from being thousands of kilometers away to being here in what seemed an instant, the moment of actual intercept and firing far less than a second long, automated systems triggering shots as the engagement lasted too brief a time for human reflexes to respond.
The Syndic heavy cruisers and the battle cruiser were arrayed to hit Corsair, their combat systems locked on, as Geary’s ships hit them.
CEO Grandon’s battle cruiser’s shields collapsed in a flurry of brilliant light, followed by the remaining hell lances and grapeshot tearing holes in and through the Syndicate Worlds warship, the blaze of destruction briefly blocking sight of the ship’s death throes. As the wreckage shot harmlessly past Corsair, one of the Syndic heavy cruisers, hit by the combined firepower of six Alliance heavy cruisers, cartwheeled helplessly through space, all systems apparently destroyed.
“No damage to any units of Zebra One,” Lieutenant Castries reported. “It doesn’t look like the surviving ships in that flotilla got in any decent hits on Corsair.”
“Immediate execute, all units up one nine zero degrees, come starboard zero zero five degrees,” Geary ordered, bringing the Alliance formation swinging up and slightly over in a vast arc to intercept the second Syndic flotilla.
The second volley of missiles fired at Corsair by that flotilla were in final approach as Michael Geary’s ship tried to throw off their aim with frantic maneuvers while Corsair’s hell lances attempted to pick them off. One missile skimmed past close enough to detonate amidships, nearly collapsing the shields there. Another exploded just short of the stern.
“Corsair has lost some propulsion for real this time,” Lieutenant Castries reported. “We can see the damage. One drive out completely, and another estimated down to fifty percent.”
A third missile got close enough to detonate off the bow of Corsair, shaking the battle cruiser as it steadied out.
“Bow shields on Corsair have collapsed. They’re not rebuilding. The bow shield generators must have been damaged or destroyed.”
The flotilla formerly commanded by CEO Grandon now consisted of a single heavy cruiser and five Hunter-Killers. With the damage already inflicted on Corsair, Geary couldn’t afford to give even that greatly diminished force a free shot. He called the officer in charge of the Fourth Heavy Cruiser Division. “Commander Easton, take your cruisers and the destroyers of the Seventh Squadron and finish off the remnants of the first Syndic flotilla. Don’t let them get in another attack on Corsair.”
Easton grinned. “Aye, aye, sir. We’re on it.”
The six heavy cruisers and eight of the destroyers peeled off as the main Alliance formation continued in a tight arc to catch the larger Syndic flotilla.
Geary spared a glance at Corsair’s status. Given time, her damage so far was survivable. But if the Syndics hit her again soon, the harm already done to Corsair’s maneuverability, propulsion, weaponry, and shields would likely doom Michael’s ship. “Dauntless, Daring, and all destroyers, concentrate fire on the leading Syndic battle cruiser. Victorious, Intemperate, and Pele, concentrate fire on the second.”
The Alliance battle cruisers ripped through the second Syndic flotilla, unloading everything they had at the enemy warships as the Syndics fired back. Dauntless shook from several hits, but no alarms sounded to warn of damage to the ship. Her shields must have held.
He waited, tense, for the results. If enough damage hadn’t been inflicted on the Syndics, they’d destroy Corsair before he could engage them again.
“Yes!” Captain Desjani said, clenching a fist in triumph as the sensors provided the results of the engagement.
One Syndic battle cruiser was gone, only an expanding cloud of debris marking its destruction. The barrage from Victorious, Intemperate, and Pele had been strong enough to knock down its shields, leaving the Syndic exposed to hits, at least one of which must have caused the ship’s power core to overload.
The second remaining Syndic battle cruiser had not only caught the full force of fire from Dauntless and Daring, but had passed close enough to Daring for that ship’s null field to hit it, evaporating part of the Syndic ship’s hull. The battle cruiser had broken into several battered pieces, one of which exploded as Geary watched. A few escape pods were fleeing the rest of the wreckage as the surviving crew sought safety.
The three heavy cruisers in the flotilla had avoided significant damage, but had abandoned their attack run on Corsair, swinging down and wide.
Geary checked his own ships for damage. Two of the heavy cruisers had concentrated fire on Dauntless, but hadn’t gotten any hits through her shields. Both Syndic battle cruisers had targeted Pele, managing to get a few hits through into her hull. But despite having a missile launcher and a hell lance battery knocked out, Pele remained in fighting condition. The third Syndic heavy cruiser in the formation, though, had targeted the destroyer Katana, hitting the smaller ship hard. Katana had managed to remain with the Alliance formation, but had lost all weapons and shields.
He shifted his attention to the remnants of CEO Grandon’s flotilla just as Commander Easton’s heavy cruisers and destroyers tore through it.
The remaining Syndic heavy cruiser in that flotilla reeled away from the encounter, all systems knocked out and escape pods already lurching away from the crippled ship. Two of the Hunter-Killers had vaporized as their power cores overloaded, another three too badly damaged to stay in formation as the last two HuKs scattered in an attempt to flee independently.
“Let’s get those last three heavies,” Geary said, determined to ensure that the warships didn’t get another shot at Corsair, and that the Syndicate Worlds paid the maximum possible price for the harm they’d inflicted on the people of Kane. And on his own force. Katana had lost sailors in a fight the Syndics had insisted on fighting.
The three heavy cruisers that remained from the second flotilla were swinging even wider and farther “down,” as if trying to give themselves time to decide whether to make another run on the badly hurt Corsair. “Kommodor, what do you think they’re doing?”
“The snakes aboard the surviving Syndicate ships won’t let the crews break off and save themselves,” Kommodor Marphissa said. “They’re pushing the officers on those heavy cruisers to try to finish off the ship Michael Geary is on. But the officers know that’s suicide.”
“Why don’t they try to kill the snakes?” Desjani asked as Geary brought his formation around to hit the heavy cruisers. “As it stands, they’re going to die anyway while they try to decide what to do. Their only chance to get away was to run the moment they realized we’d taken out their battle cruisers.”
“I assure you some of them are thinking the same thing,” Marphissa said.
Easton’s heavy cruisers and destroyers were overtaking and annihilating the two surviving HuKs as the Alliance battle cruisers steadied on their firing run against the three remaining Syndic heavy cruisers, which had abruptly come about hard to charge at Corsair. “Too late, scum,” Desjani said as the battle cruisers and their accompanying destroyers charged across the remaining gap, Katana being ordered to swing wide to avoid being hit again even though the stricken destroyer stubbornly remained with the Alliance formation.
Dauntless shook slightly from a single hit as the battle cruisers ravaged the Syndics, shooting past in a bare instant of time.
“One heavy cruiser destroyed, one badly damaged and out of action,” Lieutenant Castries said. “The third has sustained damage but is still maneuverable.”
“Let’s get him,” Geary said. But before he could give the order for his formation to swing around again, the last Syndic heavy cruiser suddenly dropped its shields. “Are they surrendering? Are we getting a surrender message?”
“We’re not picking up any messages from the last Syndic cruiser, Admiral.”
“There are people dying aboard th
at cruiser at this moment,” Kommodor Marphissa said, her voice somber. “I will guarantee that part of the crew is trying to gain control from the snakes and any loyal workers and officers.”
“When will we—” Geary began, his words cutting off as the last Syndic heavy cruiser exploded, a warship and every human life aboard it turned into an expanding cloud of dust and debris.
“The snakes have rigged means to destroy the power cores if crews revolt,” Marphissa said. “Those revolting must not have been able to stop the snakes from triggering that.”
“Damn.” It was one thing to defeat an opponent in a fair fight. It was another thing to see some of those opponents die at the hands of fanatics who wouldn’t allow surrender. The crew of Dauntless seemed to share that feeling, radiating satisfaction at their victory but not uttering any cheers for the destruction of the Syndic flotillas.
However, Corsair, though crippled and battered, was still intact, and slowly moving to intercept the Alliance battle cruisers. History hadn’t repeated itself.
All that was left in space to be dealt with were those fleeing transports.
“Kommodor,” Geary said, “you may direct Pele.”
“Thank you, Admiral. Kapitan Kontos, take your ship and try to catch some of those freighters. See how many you can capture.”
“I understand and will comply, Kommodor!” Kontos responded. Moments later Pele peeled away from the other ships, accelerating after the freighters slowly trying to flee from Kane. It was the sort of thing battle cruisers were designed for, chasing down weaker ships.
“Commander Easton,” Geary sent, “congratulations on dealing with the rest of that flotilla. Remain detached from this formation and use your ships to collect Syndic escape pods from their crippled and destroyed ships. Captain Michael Geary, join up with us. Do you require assistance?”
To his relief, Michael Geary responded, unharmed. “This ship is going to need a lot of work,” he said, “but all systems are stable. I’d be grateful for damage control and repair assistance.”
“We’ll get some people and equipment over to you,” Geary said. “That was a well-fought battle, Captain.”
“Worthy of Black Jack himself?” Michael Geary asked with a grin.
“I certainly think so,” Geary said, not responding to the needling since he felt so relieved to have saved Michael and his ship. “One of the shuttles bringing your ship assistance can return you to Dauntless for a meeting to plan future actions. You and that Syndic executive with you,” he added, remembering that Kommodor Marphissa had expressed a desire to meet her face-to-face.
“Aye, Admiral,” Michael said. “It’ll be nice to finally meet you in person.”
* * *
THE shuttle dock on Dauntless had a hushed air about it as those present waited for the shuttle ramp to drop. “He was my first failure,” Geary murmured to Desjani. “Losing him and his ship was a hard blow at a time when I was very unsure I could do what I needed to do.”
“Have you ever noticed that you judge yourself more harshly than other people do?” she replied. “That’s usually admirable, but right now I hope you’re thinking about how everything worked out thanks to your successes. And that we saved his butt this time.”
The ramp came to rest on the deck.
Michael Geary’s steps out of the shuttle had a tentative quality, like someone walking but unsure if they were dreaming or not. In person, the badly repaired damage and scorch marks on his uniform were even more obvious, as was the way the uniform hung a little loose on his frame because of weight lost while a prisoner. He looked over, seeing Geary and Desjani. Walking up to them, he saluted. “Captain Michael Geary, reporting.”
Geary returned the salute, smiling. “I’ve seen your face a lot in my dreams. I didn’t think I’d ever see it in real life again.”
Desjani stepped forward, grasping Michael’s hand. “Welcome back, brother.”
He smiled at her. “Thanks, Tanya.” The smile faded into puzzlement. “Brother?”
“It’s a long story,” she said.
Another figure came down the shuttle ramp, drawing everyone’s attention. Desjani’s hand went to her hip where a sidearm would have been holstered if she had been carrying one.
It was Executive Aragon. The holster that should have carried her own sidearm was empty. This close it was easier to see that her uniform also bore plentiful marks of combat damage. The large scar on one cheek seemed more prominent in person, as did her penetrating eyes and air of command.
Michael Geary gestured her to walk to where he was. “This is Executive Destina Aragon. Her soldiers were guarding the prisoners at the camp where I was.”
“Why exactly did you rebel against the Syndicate Worlds?” Geary asked Aragon.
“We’d already taken heavy losses fighting for the Syndicate,” Aragon said, studying him. “We were supposed to be sent home, having done our part. Instead, we heard orders were coming for the surviving workers of my unit to be sent to fight Drakon’s soldiers. We knew that’d be suicide, so we decided to force the Syndicate to respect its deal with us. You’re Black Jack? I brought your scion to you. Will you respect the deal I made with him?”
“That’s my intention,” Geary said.
Kommodor Marphissa stepped slightly forward. “What’s your home star system, Executive?”
“Anahuac,” Aragon replied. “We’re Tigres. What are you?” she added, looking over Marphissa’s uniform.
“Kommodor Marphissa of the free and independent Midway Star System. Your families were brought here as hostages for your obedience?”
“Yes,” Executive Aragon said as if expecting to be doubted. “They’re down there.”
“I believe you,” Marphissa said. “The Syndicate did the same thing at Iwa. We brought Alliance Marines to stop the fighting on the surface of the planet. They’ll save your families. They like killing snakes.”
“Not as much as I do,” Aragon said. “Alliance Marines? You trust them? Do you have beer to motivate them?”
Gunnery Sergeant Orvis, as usual standing not far from Kommodor Marphissa, attempted without complete success to smother a smile.
“Let’s go talk things over in private,” Geary said. “Captain Desjani, have Dr. Nasr meet us in the secure conference room so he can check over Captain Geary.”
The small procession headed for the secure conference room, Gunnery Sergeant Orvis and a couple of Marine sentries following at a discreet distance, Michael Geary still looking about him as if unsure he was really back on an Alliance fleet ship, and Executive Aragon walking as if she expected a bullet in the back at any moment.
“Get General Carabali and Colonel Rogero linked in,” Geary ordered. The battle cruisers were close enough to the main body again for a real-time conference. “You two, do you need anything to eat or drink?”
“I’m fine, Admiral,” Michael Geary said despite having sat down with obvious relief.
Executive Aragon only shook her head, remaining standing.
Dr. Nasr came in, hastily checking over Michael Geary, frowning as he studied medical instrument readings.
The virtual presences of Colonel Rogero and General Carabali appeared, Rogero gazing with surprise at Aragon.
“So,” Geary said after introductions, “we have a damaged but still-usable battle cruiser carrying a large group of Alliance former prisoners of war, as well as Executive Aragon’s force of ground soldiers.”
“The deal,” Michael Geary said, “was that they’d capture the ship, we’d fly the ship to get them home, and after we dropped off the Tigres we would be given the ship and could try to get back to Alliance space. But we found out about the families being sent here, so Executive Aragon asked to modify the deal to bring her unit here. Since it looked like Midway might be a refuge before we tried sneaking and fighting our way across Syndic space, I agreed. We�
�re very low on fuel cells and only had working hell lances when it comes to weapons, so it wasn’t like we were in great shape for a long trip home.”
“We’d been assigned guard duty at an orbital prison camp that officially didn’t exist,” Executive Aragon said. “Supposedly we’d be sent home soon. But we found out we were getting different orders, and decided if we were going to die, we’d die with our teeth in the neck of the Syndicate.”
Kommodor Marphissa leaned forward, a grim smile on her lips. “I know that feeling. How’d you take the battle cruiser?”
“It had a skeleton crew. Snakes. Waiting for the full crew to arrive. It was also going to transport us to here when it got the full crew. When we found out our families and a fellow unit of Tigres were already here, we came anyway to see if we could free them.”
“How many are you?” Colonel Rogero asked.
“Three hundred seven,” Aragon said. “That’s all that’s left of us.”
“Only three hundred?” Desjani asked. “Why’d the Syndics even bother moving such a small unit?”
Aragon turned cold eyes on Desjani. “Because we’re Tigres. We’re tough. Even the Syndicate knows our value.”
“But you didn’t want to fight General Drakon’s soldiers?” Carabali asked.
“That’s right,” Executive Aragon said. “We’re tough, not stupid.”
“I’ve heard of the Tigres,” Colonel Rogero added. “Soldiers from Anahuac have an impressive reputation.”
Aragon looked at Rogero. “You’re one of Drakon’s?”
“I have the honor of serving General Drakon, yes,” Rogero said. “I command one of his brigades.”
For the first time, Executive Aragon looked impressed. “You must be pretty tough, too. Tell them. We can do anything they ask of us.”
“What’s the situation on the surface?” Geary asked Carabali.
Boundless Page 37
