Fearless

NINE

“Syndic Force Alpha’s moving.” The warning from a Dauntless watch-stander came almost simultaneously with an alerting message from Alliance Formation Echo, which was currently charged with blocking any attack by the surviving Syndic flotilla.

Geary rubbed his chin, studying the sightings coming in. The Syndic flotilla had been cruising along the outer edges of the star system for days now, watching from very long range as the Alliance fleet systematically looted supplies and repaired damage to its own ships. Now it had finally come around and begun accelerating toward the inner system. “Too early to tell where they’re aiming for.”

“Yes, sir,” Captain Desjani agreed.

“But even after the damage Task Force Furious inflicted, they’ve still got eight battleships and four battle cruisers.” Geary checked the display again. The two battle cruisers shot up by Task Force Furious had jumped out using different jump points over the last two days, doubtless going to notify the Syndic leadership that the Alliance fleet had shown up at Sancere and to call for reinforcements. One of the HuKs had also jumped out, heading for a third destination. It would be about a week’s transit time for all of them to their objectives, plus time to gather more warships, then a week back. More Syndics would be coming, but Geary planned to have the Alliance fleet long gone before they arrived. “Plus eight heavy cruisers and five HuKs. They outgun any one of our subformations, even though they don’t have nearly enough escorts.”

He pondered the situation. The Syndics had been about three and a half light-hours out from the star Sancere when they turned inward. Alliance Formation Echo was outside the orbit of the fifth world, only thirty light-minutes from the sun. The Syndics had been accelerating toward the inner system for three hours before any Alliance ship had seen them. Three hours’ time delay left a lot of room for as-yet-unseen changes.

On the other hand, even if the Syndics ramped all the way up to .2 light, it would still take them at least fifteen hours to even reach the area where Alliance Formation Echo was located. If they were aiming at any other Alliance formation, the time required to intercept at even .2 light ranged from twenty hours to well over a day. Nothing was going to happen immediately. But eventually things would happen quickly.

Don’t act too fast. But don’t put off acting, either. Do I want to stop all exploitation activity in this system to confront Syndic Force Alpha? But if I do, what’s to stop the Syndics from just racing through the system at .2 light or even higher? How long could they keep that up, denying me the chance to engage them and keeping my forces from continuing to loot the supplies we need? It would be the smartest thing they could do. Good thing they didn’t think of something like that sooner. “Captain Desjani. Assume the Syndics are planning to hit a smaller Alliance force, but will avoid action indefinitely if confronted with a larger force. What would you recommend?”

She considered the question, gazing at her display. “We can try seeding mines in their path, but at the speeds we would need to be going to ensure intercepting their track, the odds of planting a decent minefield are pretty low.”

“What about high-speed engagements? Could we manage to inflict much damage that way?”

Desjani grimaced. “If they’re going point two light and we’re coming in fast to meet them? Then the combined velocities would be, maybe, point two five light to point three light or higher. The relativistic distortion would be ferocious. Even the tiniest errors in compensating for it would mean clean misses.”

“So we have to slow them down to engagement speed and meet them with a more powerful force,” Geary concluded.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Desjani suggested unhappily.

Co-President Rione’s voice came from behind them. “Why do military minds always focus on one alternative?” Geary looked back at her. “The way to slow them down is to offer a target that seems attractive.”

“I don’t care for sacrificing units that way,” Geary stated flatly, earning an emphatic nod of agreement from Desjani.

Rione leaned forward. “You’re too honest in your thinking, Captain Geary. You, too, Captain Desjani. Make it a trap.”

Geary exchanged a glance with Desjani as he spoke to Rione again. “What kind of trap?”

“I’m not a military expert, Captain Geary. Surely you can think of something.”

Desjani’s eyes had narrowed as she studied the display. “There might be a way.”

“Even with the Syndics able to see everything we’re doing?” Geary asked.

“Yes, sir. The trick would be making it look like we’re doing one thing when we’re actually planning another.”

Rione nodded. “Yes. Excellent. Present one image to the enemy while keeping your true intentions hidden.”

Geary kept his expression controlled while nodding back. Hearing Rione recommend that course of action was a little unsettling, given his doubts about her intentions toward him. “We can’t make the force we’ll use to bait the Syndics too powerful. They’ll spot that without fail.”

“I am thinking,” Desjani stated slowly, “of a star named Sutrah.”

Geary frowned at her, then his expression cleared. “That would be poetic justice, wouldn’t it?”

In the end, it required an awesome amount of analysis for the maneuvering systems to come up with the movement plan needed to implement Desjani’s idea. All six Alliance fleet formations had to swing through space, in some cases trading ships that would follow their own tracks for a while, some of the ships and formations passing through certain small areas where the Syndics were judged most likely to transit given the movements of all of the Alliance ships, most particularly Alliance Formation Gamma. This all had to be done without making it apparent to the Syndics why they were moving in that particular way, and presenting a credible image of part of the Alliance fleet girding for an engagement with the Syndics while other portions tried to continue looting Syndic assets. Formation Gamma had to be maneuvered in such a way as to present an attractive target while looking like it was unaware of the fact that it was exposed to Syndic intercept if the Syndics altered course away from battle with the larger force being assembled to meet its current path.

Captain Tulev’s battle cruisers had been joined by the fast fleet auxiliary Goblin, and were now to be dangled as the necessary bait even though Geary hated the idea of risking one of the auxiliaries. “They won’t bite without one of the auxiliaries in the target force,” Desjani had insisted, and Geary had reluctantly agreed.

Now he stared at the intricate web of tracks his ships were to follow for a long moment before authorizing the orders to be sent. “All units. Maneuvering orders to follow. Every unit must carry out these orders exactly as sent.”

It was far too complex to pass by voice. The detailed orders went out to all ships, and at the ordered times they began moving, though with the time delays involved in seeing his widely scattered formations, Geary had plenty of time to worry about whether everyone was acting as ordered. It was the sort of thing no human or command staff could have put together or executed. Without the substantial superiority in ships that Geary had over Syndic Force Alpha, it wouldn’t even have been possible.

Now he sat, watching the ships move at various distances and time delays, as the Syndics pressed onward toward the inner system.

“You’ll be exhausted if you stay up here until the battle,” a voice murmured.

Geary roused himself and looked back at Rione. “I know. But this entire thing depends on everyone doing what they’re told.”

“And if they don’t,” she replied, “you won’t even see it until some time after they didn’t. Watching makes no difference. Get some rest.”

He gave Desjani a glance. Dauntless’s commanding officer was catnapping in her command chair. Geary envied her the ability to do that. He checked his display again. If the Syndics kept on their current track, they would be approaching engagement range in eight hours. If they slowed or turned, engagement range to any other Alliance formation would be at least ten hours. Engagement time to Formation Gamma, if the Syndics had already turned, was ten and half hours. Rione is right. I’m an idiot to stay up here. “I’m going below for a while,” Geary informed the watch-standers on the bridge. “Please inform me immediately if any ship deviates from their ordered tracks or if we spot changes in the Syndic track.”

He stood, looking at Rione. “How about you?”

She shook her head, looking past him. “I don’t want any rumors about the way you spend your time preparing for battle, Captain Geary,” Rione said in a very soft voice. “You’re going down to sleep. Do it.”

“Yes, Madam Co-President,” Geary responded. “You’re not going to stay up here the whole time, are you?”

She shook her head. “In a while I’ll go to my stateroom.”

That would surely be remarked, Geary knew, by the many eyes that just happened to notice such things. He also knew Rione was right about it looking bad if his fleet believed Geary was enjoying himself while battle loomed. “Okay. I’ll see you back here in a while.”

This time Rione nodded. “I confess I feel partly responsible if this plan doesn’t work. I suggested it, in a way.”

“You did. But I approved it. It’s my responsibility. No one else’s.”

Rione looked straight into his eyes. “John Geary, I’ve had moments of wondering if I should’ve succumbed to my feelings for you, if I shouldn’t rather have kept my distance for the sake of the Alliance and for my own long-term happiness. Statements such as that reassure me.”

There didn’t seem any good, simple answer to that, so Geary nodded to her and smiled. He left the bridge, taking a meandering path to his stateroom so he could be seen by the crew of Dauntless, stopping at a few places to speak with the crew and repeat the now-familiar lines about his certainty that they would defeat the Syndics in this battle, that the fleet would get home safely, and that he was proud to serve with them. No matter how false he sometimes felt about promising the first two things, Geary always knew the last statement was true. Knowing that helped him sleep when he finally got to his stateroom, though he was surprised to discover that the absence of Victoria Rione from his bed already felt noticeable.

He woke to his communications alert, seeing that six hours had passed. “Geary here.”

“We’ve spotted Syndic Force Alpha maneuvering, sir. They’re heading for Formation Gamma.”

The bait had been taken. “I’ll be up there in a few minutes.”

There had been a lot of options for the Syndic flotilla as it charged into the inner system. Too many to produce any meaningful prediction of what particular spots in space it would pass through. The Alliance plan had been aimed at luring the Syndics into a particular course of action, in this case an attack on a smaller formation that appeared to have accidentally been left out of supporting range of the rest of the fleet. As Geary settled into his seat on the bridge of the Dauntless and checked the display, he saw the probability cone for the Syndics’ course still had a huge diameter at its base where the Syndic flotilla had just changed course. But that cone necked down inexorably toward a tight channel near the track of Alliance Formation Gamma, which the Syndics would have to traverse if they wanted to engage the ships in Gamma. Beautiful. If they do it, we’ve got them. If they decide not to hit Gamma, then those ships will be safe. Either way we’ve won except for some wasted ordnance.

The rest of the Alliance fleet was still re-forming. Another small formation accompanied by Witch but too far off for the Syndics to target without sweeping around through the system, and two larger formations, one built around Dauntless and the other centered on Courageous. Task Force Furious was almost two light-hours distant on the side away from the Syndics, where it had been returning from smashing some Syndic installations on the two innermost worlds. Geary was gratified to see that a good number of the ships making up both formations were still on the way. Part of the plan involved letting the Syndics think the Alliance was taking its time getting ready to meet the Syndic attack, and as a result the Alliance would be forced to be slow in reacting to the changed Syndic course.

All theater, preplanned to lure the Syndics into going where the Alliance wanted them to go.

It was nonetheless increasingly nerve-racking to see the Syndics heading toward Formation Gamma, which was holding its track but had accelerated from .05 to .075 light speed. To the Syndics, that would look like an attempt to escape, but it was actually aimed at adjusting the location where the Syndics would intercept Formation Gamma. It all came down to simple physics now. In order to get within striking range of Gamma, the Syndics would have to go where the Alliance wanted them to go. The trick was to keep the Syndics from changing their minds and veering off. Accordingly, Gamma made a show of trying to accelerate past .075 light, only to have Goblin fall behind as if she couldn’t keep up. The rest of the ships in Gamma slowed to rejoin Goblin, having put on a hopefully convincing show for the Syndics.

His own formation finally assembled, Geary swung it around and down to head for an intercept with Syndic Force Alpha. He had retained the name Formation Delta, even though he now had more than twice as many ships. On the far side of Formation Gamma was the new Formation Bravo, also bulked up to twice its former strength, thirty light-minutes away but hopefully getting into motion itself now. A much smaller force, Formation Echo with Witch, was playacting as if returning to the third planet to loot more supplies or destroy more surface installations. Finally, Task Force Furious had been told to remain on the far side of the system, a last piece of insurance against the Syndics getting away clean. If all else failed, Task Force Furious might get in some good shots as the Syndics tried to climb out of the system again.

“Surely they’re going to figure out what you’re doing now,” Rione noted.

“I sure as hell hope not,” Geary replied. “It shouldn’t be as obvious to the Syndics. To them, it’s going to look as if we’re bending on speed but won’t be able to reach them at engagement speeds before they reach Formation Gamma. Same for Formation Bravo, since its intercept location is even farther off than ours. The Syndics are thinking they’ve caught a weaker formation that we let get too far from supporting formations. They’re planning to come in fast, brake hard, rake Gamma with everything they’ve got, then accelerate away and frustrate our planned intercepts by this formation and Formation Bravo.”

“You’re a more devious man than I’d thought, Captain Geary,” Rione observed.

“Captain Desjani helped come up with the plan.”

Desjani grinned.

“Anyway, if all goes right, the Syndic plan won’t even survive until contact with Gamma. It’ll start falling apart well before then. The really hard part in setting this up was getting enough ships to cross through the area where the Syndics will have to transit to intercept Gamma, without the Syndics figuring out those ships were dropping strings of mines along a single relatively narrow channel.”

“And,” Desjani added, “since the Syndic plan clearly requires them to come in fast, maintaining close to point two light as long as they can before braking hard to engage Gamma, relativistic distortion is going to make it very difficult for them to see the mines, especially since it’s not a single, dense minefield but a diffuse series of strings.”

Now it was just a matter of watching again. Everyone remained several hours away from any contact, the representations of the various formations seeming to crawl through the display of Sancere Star System. Geary took advantage of the time to arrange his formation for what he expected would work best. Assuming the Syndics would seek to avoid a fight with him, Geary arranged his ships in a rectangular block, the battleships and battle cruisers clustered by divisions down the center, the escorts around the outside. If he only got one firing pass, he wanted to ensure his heaviest units could all hit the Syndics in succession.

Increasingly restless, Geary finally stood up. “I’m going to walk around the ship.” The crew undoubtedly thought his walks were a sign of his interest in them, and they certainly were that, but at times like this, the walks were also a way to work out nervousness and kill time during the long, slow approach to combat.

The crew members he met all seemed tired from the long days at increased alert while in Sancere Star System, but cheerful and confident. The hopeful and certain expressions they turned on Geary still had a tendency to unnerve him, since he knew how fallible he really was, but at least he also knew he hadn’t let them down yet. As he walked around, Geary noticed crew members looking past him as if expecting to see someone with him, and realized they were looking for Co-President Rione, even though none of them mentioned her. That was a little unnerving, too.

At some point, he went past the worship area and walked into the area set aside for ancestors, entering one of the small rooms and lighting a candle before saying a brief prayer. The living stars knew he needed all of the help he could get. But tempting as it was to linger and speak for a while to the one audience he felt sure of, his dead ancestors, Geary knew he couldn’t hide in here while the fleet headed for battle.

All of that didn’t kill nearly enough time. Geary confirmed that nothing had changed in the situation, everybody rushing toward their respective intercept points and the Syndics still closing in on the path to the mines, then forced himself to go by the meal areas and pretend to eat. Most of what they had now was Syndic rations looted from places like Kaliban and now Sancere. The best thing about the Syndic food, Geary and the sailors he spoke with agreed, was that it made the usual fleet food seem good by comparison. “If we offered the Syndics decent meals, they’d probably surrender in droves,” one of the sailors suggested as she choked down something that was apparently supposed to be hash, though made up of unidentifiable meat and some very odd looking potatoes with the texture and taste of blocks of cardboard.

Geary returned to the bridge. Rione wasn’t there, and Desjani was asleep in her chair again. A captain who spent that much time on the bridge could drive her crew insane, but Desjani wasn’t a screamer or a micromanager, so her presence didn’t wear on her watch-standers. She woke up as Geary entered and nodded to him. “One more hour until the Syndics reach the first mines. They’re still heading right down the chute.”

“When do you think they’ll start braking?” Geary asked.

“In about half an hour. That’ll leave them a very slight margin for error.” Desjani indicated the projected track on the display. “If they brake too early, they’ll slide off the path to the mines, but we’ll have a much better shot at catching them with this formation. But if they want to hit Formation Gamma, they’ll have to start braking at this point.”

Geary settled in, relaxing as best he could. To kill time, he began rechecking the supplies the fleet had picked up here at Sancere, and how the auxiliaries were doing on manufacturing replacement items. There had been a lot of maneuvering here in Sancere, burning through fuel cells, so Geary tossed off a quick message to Captain Tyrosian on Witch to make sure new fuel cells were a priority. All of the grapeshot, mines, and missiles in the world wouldn’t provide enough help to ships that couldn’t maneuver.

Co-President Rione returned, surveying the bridge of the Dauntless, Captain Desjani, and Captain Geary with her usual unruffled and challenging attitude. Nodding in greeting, Geary realized there was little chance of him ever accidentally calling her Victoria while on the bridge. The Co-President Rione who occupied the observer’s seat on the bridge might look like the Victoria who shared Geary’s bed, but her attitude was so different that she seemed to really be another person, one who retained distance and distrust toward Captain Geary. I did ask her to stay challenging, after all. But I have a feeling she’d be like this whether I’d asked it of her or not.

Desjani also nodded in almost-friendly greeting. Being involved with Geary had clearly made Rione more trustworthy in Desjani’s eyes, though he suspected Rione would react pretty negatively to the idea. He certainly wasn’t going to mention it to her. But then she probably already had realized that, which might be contributing to the frosty way Rione was treating Geary on the bridge. Maybe he should put off mentioning to Rione that the crew seemed to be expecting to see them together. Or maybe she wanted to be seen with him, to make as public a spectacle as possible of their association.

Geary turned back to the much less complicated situation playing out between the Syndic flotilla and his five formations. His display indicated every Alliance ship had come to full battle readiness. He and thousands of other officers and sailors had nothing to do for a while yet but watch the time scroll down to the moments when the Syndics would encounter the first mines.

The Syndics pivoted up and over in place almost exactly when predicted, bringing their propulsion units to face forward so they could brake the Syndic formation’s velocity down to engagement speed. A few minutes later, Geary saw Formation Gamma increase speed a fraction to move the Syndic track to intercept exactly back onto the path through the mines. Surely the Syndics would get suspicious? But, perhaps because they were fixed on their intended targets, the Syndics adjusted their course just as the Alliance needed them to.

Fifteen more minutes crawled by. “Here they come,” Desjani murmured.

The intricate maneuvers that had set up the trap had sent ships or formations across the space the Syndic flotilla was now braking through. The result hadn’t been so much a minefield as a lattice made up of multiple rows and strings of mines spread across light-seconds of distance along the track. The Syndic warships were now rushing stern first into the area holding those mines. Any hits would fall on their main propulsion units aft, which was exactly where the Alliance wanted those hits to strike.

The Syndic formation braked through the first two lines of mines without encountering any. Frustrating, but the odds didn’t favor a lot of hits. The third line lay right across their path.

A Syndic HuK took a direct hit on the stern. The mine collapsed the rear shields and blew the HuK’s propulsion units, leaving it unable to maneuver. One of the battle cruisers took two hits, losing a single propulsion unit. There was a pause as the Syndics swept onward, until they hit where the fourth and fifth lines crossed. This time several hits sparked on the Syndic ships, sending a heavy cruiser stumbling out of formation and taking out a couple of propulsion units on another battle cruiser.

By this time the Syndics had figured out they were running into something. The most effective counter would be to pivot their ships so they were facing forward and would take any further hits on their bows. But pivoting would mean the warships couldn’t use their main propulsion systems to brake anymore, which would prevent them from slowing enough to intercept Formation Gamma. Geary had guessed that the Syndic leader would chose to continue taking occasional hits rather than give up the chance to strike the Alliance ships in Gamma. If the Syndics had hit all the mines at once and sustained the damage in a single burst, it probably would’ve caused the leader to call off the attack, but instead the hits kept coming in ones and twos, adding up in a way that the Syndic commander might well miss until too late while focus remained on the Alliance warships in Gamma.

More hits occurred as the Syndics encountered successive lines of mines, each one doing a little more damage, weakening even the shields on the battleships. By this time the Syndic commander had to be worried. The damaged ships were already losing their places in formation and might have to be left behind when the Syndic flotilla accelerated away after hitting Gamma.

“Captain Tulev has fired specters,” Desjani observed. “It looks like he’s firing every specter he’s got. They’ll intercept the Syndic formation just as it’s clearing the last string of mines.”

“Good move,” Geary agreed.

A final flurry of three mine strikes marked the last string of mines, then the Syndic ships were sweeping down on Formation Gamma with no more obstacles between them. Moments later the specters from Gamma flashed into contact. The high relative speed caused some to miss, but others hammered at ships that in many cases had already seen their shields drained by mine hits and hadn’t recovered yet. Another battle cruiser took hits to its propulsion systems, another HuK vanished into a ball of debris, and two of the remaining heavy cruisers were badly battered. Even better, two of the battleships lost a couple of propulsion units.

“Adjust course as necessary to intercept the Syndics,” Geary ordered Desjani, passing the same command to Captain Duellos in Formation Bravo. The rest of the ships in the formation would conform to Dauntless’s moves as Desjani made minor adjustments to course and speed to manage the best intercept.

“We’ll have to start braking ourselves, soon,” she advised.

Geary checked his display and nodded. “All units in Formation Delta, adjust ships’ headings one hundred eighty degrees now.” That would bring the Alliance ships around so their main propulsion units faced aft. “Begin braking down to point one light at time three one.”

Tulev had formed his battle cruisers facing the Syndics and close around Goblin, making as close to a physical shield for Goblin as it was possible to construct. The Syndic formation, though increasingly spread out as damaged ships fell out of position, was still aiming for intercept and still had more than twice the firepower available to Tulev’s forces.

Geary blinked, trying to understand what he had just seen.

Desjani was grinning broadly. “Brilliant!”

Tulev had pivoted his ships and accelerated at maximum when it was too late for the Syndics to react but just in time to throw off the Syndic intercept. The maneuver had required perfect timing, and Tulev had carried it off. He’d also thrown a barrage of grapeshot at the leading Syndic ships, which were firing on the place Tulev’s ships should have been if they hadn’t changed speed, only belatedly shifting aim to target the actual positions of the Alliance warships. The two leading battleships seemed to flare incandescent as the Alliance grapeshot hit their shields in a concentrated volley. “He got them!” Desjani exulted as Dauntless’s sensors provided damage reports that both battleships had been badly hurt.

But that left a lot of Syndic capital ships rolling past Tulev’s formation. The shields on the Alliance battle cruisers around Goblin sparked and flashed with hits as the Syndic battleships poured fire onto them. “Leviathan has taken several hits,” a watch-stander reported. “Dragon has lost two propulsion units and main maneuvering control. Steadfast reports hell-lance batteries one alpha and three alpha out of commission and numerous hits. Valiant has taken serious damage amidships but is continuing to fire.”

Geary clenched his fists, trying not to think of the sailors dying on those battle cruisers. If he lost one or more of the battle cruisers, it would be a bitter price for whatever losses were inflicted on the Syndics.

“Most of the Syndic capital ships have passed out of range of Formation Gamma,” a watch-stander reported.

It dawned on Geary as he read the updates on damage to his battle cruisers that they had been saved by the damage inflicted on the Syndics earlier as a result of mines, specters, and grapeshot. The cumulative effect of those hits had spread out the Syndic formation so that their fire wasn’t concentrated on the battle cruisers in one short, overwhelming barrage but rather dispersed enough to allow the screens on the Alliance ships to hold longer than they would have otherwise. “What about Goblin?”

“Several hits, none critical.”

Geary let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Tulev’s battle cruisers had hit back as the Syndics roared past, inflicting more damage. And unlike the Alliance warships, the Syndics didn’t have massive reinforcements rushing to the scene. They had to run, but many of them couldn’t run fast enough anymore.

Unfortunately, plenty of them could still run.

Geary made a fist and softly pounded the arm of his chair. He had occasionally wondered why that part of the chair’s arm didn’t have controls on it and finally realized it had been deliberately left bare so that frustrated and worried commanders could beat on it. “He’s still got five battleships with only minor damage and three heavy cruisers.” The Syndic formation was stretching out as the warships with full propulsion capability accelerated away from the damaged units. “We can’t catch those. Blast.”

“We won’t have to,” Desjani stated in a flat voice. “Unless I miss my guess.”

“What do you mean?”

She pointed at the front of the Syndic formation. “There’s a commander out there who’s now lost half of their force, or will once we catch those damaged ships. The remaining units won’t be able to threaten us enough to prevent us from completing whatever we want to do in this star system. That commander knows the best fate they can hope for is a labor camp. A firing squad is more likely, though we’ve heard of punishments that amount to torturing someone to death under the guise of ‘volunteering for medical research’ and other euphemisms.”

Geary studied the display. “You think that commander will choose death in battle?”

“Or at least fighting to the death of their ships. It might not seem the best option, unless you’re a commander facing death anyway.” Desjani gestured again. “There they go.” The undamaged and lightly damaged battleships were braking, falling back to rejoin their damaged sisters. “Despairing or not,” Desjani acknowledged, “it’s a brave move by all of those ships.”

Hearing Desjani describe Syndics as brave startled Geary. She was starting to think of the enemy as human. He would have to warn her that such feelings could help her understand the enemy’s actions but also make it harder to do what needed to be done. Like killing the brave sailors on those brave ships.

Intercept points were updating rapidly on his maneuvering display as the Syndics’ speed dropped lower. “I’m going to bring this formation across the bottom of the Syndics and have Formation Bravo come across the top here. They should be able to hit the Syndics about fifteen minutes after our pass. We’ll come around and hit them again after that.” Geary gave the orders, angling Formation Delta slightly to port and down, telling Formation Bravo to also turn to port a bit and angle up.

Tulev had sent his escorts after the departing enemy, and now one of the damaged Syndic heavy cruisers at the rear of the formation blew up under the fire of the Alliance light forces snapping at the heels of the Syndics. Geary frowned, studying the movements of the Syndic battleships. “Task Force Gamma, get your escorts back. They’re going to be facing battleships soon unless they break contact. Have them take up position outside of enemy effective range, ready to hit any units that fall back outside the protection of the rest of the force.” Like wolves racing behind a fleeing herd, ready to pull down any animal that faltered.

But it would be several minutes yet before the escorts got that message. Hopefully the Syndic attempt to concentrate their formation would take longer than that.

The Syndics were settling into a roughly cubical formation when Geary took Formation Delta beneath them, unleashing an avalanche of fire on the ships on the bottom of the enemy force. Two damaged battle cruisers were riddled and three battleships took heavy damage, while the heavy cruisers and few surviving HuKs simply disintegrated under the Alliance fire.

Fifteen minutes later, as Geary was bringing Formation Delta around in a wide curve, Formation Bravo swung across the top of the Syndic formation, smashing two battleships and one of the remaining battle cruisers.

Geary pressed his communications controls as Formation Delta steadied on another firing pass. “Commander of the Syndic flotilla under attack, your situation is hopeless. Surrender your ships. You and your crews will be treated in accordance with the laws of war.”

There wasn’t any answer, but Geary hadn’t expected one. As Desjani had said, the Syndic commander had likely decided that death in battle was preferable to the fate his superiors were likely to inflict.

The Syndic cube was shrinking into a flat square, its speed reduced even more as less damaged ships slowed to stay with their damaged sisters, when the second pass from Formation Delta ripped through it and left only two battleships functional. The second pass from Formation Bravo finished them, smashing the remnants of Syndic Force Alpha into scrap. As Formation Bravo drew away, one of the broken Syndic battleships blew up from a core overload.

Geary blew out a long breath, gazing at the cloud of escape pods heading for refuge. “What do you think the odds are that the Syndic commander went down with that last battleship?” he asked no one in particular.

Desjani just nodded.

Rione gestured toward the display, which showed Alliance ships closing on the Syndic wrecks to ensure they were all completely destroyed and unsalvageable by the Syndics. “Congratulations on your victory, Captain Geary.”

“You gave us the idea,” Geary responded.

Desjani nodded again. “An object lesson in what happens when you do what the enemy wants you to do.”

“Yeah. The trick is figuring out what the enemy wants you to do, and doing something different.” He pondered the state of his fleet. “All units, rejoin Dauntless in fleet general purpose Formation Echelon. Captain Tulev, I want your battle cruisers and escorts with the auxiliaries division so they can provide support to you. Give me estimated repair times for your ships when possible. To all ships in Formation Gamma, very well done.”

Desjani gave him a glance. “Are we leaving Sancere soon?”

“That’s right.” Geary ran his eyes across the system display, remembering the mass of installations and shipping that had greeted the Alliance fleet when it had arrived here. Very few of those were left. Let’s see if the Syndics can try to spin this into a victory. “We’ve done all the damage we need to do here. And we’re going to be needed at Ilion. If we’re lucky, there’ll be some ships rejoining us there.”

“And some Syndicate Worlds forces right behind them,” Rione noted.

“Yeah. I’d better make sure the auxiliaries are manufacturing more weapons as well as more fuel cells during the transit. I’m assuming we’ll need both at Ilion.”

Before they went into jump, Geary took the time for a private conference with Commander Cresida. “If not for your ideas on controlling that hypernet gate collapse, there’s a good chance none of us would be here. As fleet commander, I can authorize the award of a Silver Nebula, and that’s what I’m giving you. I hope you don’t mind that the wording on the citation may be a little vague.”

Cresida flushed with pleasure. “Thank you, sir. Hopefully we won’t need that firing algorithm again.”

“Let’s hope not,” Geary agreed. “You’ve done outstanding work as an independent formation commander.” He paused. “I’m also granting a battlefield promotion to captain. Congratulations. You earned it. We’ll have a proper ceremony at Ilion if time permits.”

“Captain?” Cresida smiled, looking stunned. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Like I said, you earned it. Task Force Furious has proven to be a very valuable asset to this fleet.” Geary leaned back, relaxing in a way he knew communicated that the formal portion of the conference was over. “Commander Cresida—excuse me, Captain Cresida, there’s something I’ve been wondering.” She gave him an attentive look even as she smiled at the first use of her new rank. “When that hypernet gate here was destroyed, what happened to any ships heading for Sancere?”

“There’s two possibilities, sir,” Cresida stated. “One is that when the pathway between the Sancere gate and whatever gate they come from was broken, everything in it was destroyed in one manner or another.”

Geary nodded, thinking of ships suddenly dying without any warning. Enemy ships, but still…

“What’s the other possibility?”

“It’s actually considered by far the most likely, sir,” Cresida assured him. “It’s believed that when the path ceases to exist, any ships affected simply fall back into normal space.”

“That’s all?” On the heels of his statement, Geary realized what that meant. “They drop into normal space. Somewhere between whatever star they came from and Sancere.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Which could be a long, long ways from any star,” Geary added.

“Yes, sir.” Cresida grimaced. “With luck, and rationing, and some creative attempts at converting compartments into growing areas to recycle waste, grow food, and regenerate oxygen supplies, they should be able to make it to a star from which they could use jump points to get somewhere safe.”

“It’d take years, though, even if they were only a light-year from the nearest star.”

“At the sort of economical cruising speed they’d have to use, yes, sir. Probably at least ten years. Possibly a lot more.”

Geary shook his head. “I guess it beats dying. Oh, hell, they could use some of their escape pods. Put most of their crews into survival sleep without launching the pods. That would stretch all of their supplies a lot. I wouldn’t want to be one of the guys left awake, though. That’d be a long time staring at a star getting bigger very, very slowly.”

“It’s not like we’re going to be home tomorrow,” Cresida pointed out wryly.

“True. And if we caused a lot of Syndic warships to get stuck between stars for a decade, that ought to help out the Alliance a bit.” He smiled somewhat, too. “Maybe they’d finally get to a star and find out the war had been over for years. I wonder how that would feel?”

Cresida didn’t reply for a moment. “Some of us wonder if the war will ever be over, if we and the Syndics will just keep fighting no matter what happens.”

Geary looked at her, recalling that the war had been going on for Cresida’s entire life and long before then. “I suppose sometimes it must seem like it’ll last forever. But there must be a way to bring it to an end in a way that preserves the safety of the Alliance and ensures the Syndics won’t attack again.” The ability to use hypernet gates as means of unparalleled destruction came back to him, then. That would end the war and eliminate the Syndic threat. Would he ever come to believe that was the only thing to do? Or, worse, that it was the right thing to do? “I’ll see you at Ilion, Captain.”