Implacable, page 5
“We’ll have to hope they can.”
Ending that call, Geary sat back, trying to think of anything he’d forgotten.
“Admiral.”
Desjani’s voice was deceptively calm. He looked at her, seeing her expression tight from having to sit among the slower-moving formation while the other battle cruisers raced to the rescue of the Dancers. “Tanya, the other battle cruisers can handle those Syndics.”
“If the Dancers can survive that long.” Captain Desjani eyed him. “But if the Syndics see a target they really want to destroy, they’ll leave off chasing those Dancers and come after it.”
It only took him a moment to see what she was driving at. “We pull Dauntless out of the formation, charging out alone ahead of the rest of the ships. When the Syndics see us on our own, they’ll leave off engaging the Dancers and head on an intercept to destroy Dauntless while the ship is exposed.”
“That sounds like a great plan, Admiral,” Desjani said, just as if she hadn’t prompted him on it. “We should do that.”
“Dauntless can’t tangle with six enemy battle cruisers.”
“The hell she can’t. Sir.” Desjani smiled, flexing her fingers. “I can keep those Syndics chasing their own tails until the rest of the fleet arrives and sends them all to greet their ancestors.”
She wasn’t boasting. Geary knew that Tanya Desjani was one of the best ship drivers in the Alliance fleet.
It would be a big risk, though. Six-to-one odds were nothing to laugh at, even if Captain Desjani was commanding the one.
If the Dancers saw their own people getting killed by humans while Geary’s fleet took its time getting there to save them, any hope of future agreements might disappear. The entire purpose of this mission might be sabotaged, along with humanity’s hope of close relations with the first alien species willing to talk with humans.
Hell. He didn’t really have any choice, not if he kept the big picture in view.
He touched his comm controls to speak with Captain Armus, commanding officer of the battleship Colossus. “Captain Armus, I’m going to transfer command of the main body to you while Dauntless tries to draw off the Syndics attacking the Dancers. Keep moving to intercept and engage the Syndics.”
“I understand,” Captain Armus said, not displaying any surprise at the sudden change in plans or worry about Geary’s maneuver. As stolid and ponderous as the ship he commanded, Armus would never be accused of going off half-cocked, but he was as reliable as any officer could be. “Good luck, Admiral.”
The next call was to the fleet. “All units in Formation Alpha, this is Admiral Geary. Effective immediately, Formation Alpha is under the command of Captain Armus aboard Colossus. Dauntless is proceeding to lead the attack and draw the Syndics away from the Dancer ships they’re attacking. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”
That done, he nodded to Desjani. “Let’s go, Captain.”
Desjani grinned. “Yes, Admiral. On the bridge! This is Captain Desjani. I am assuming personal control of maneuvering.”
The others on the bridge acknowledged Desjani’s words with a chorus of ayes that was only slightly staggered by everyone’s hasty moves to strap into their seats as well as they could. “All hands prepare for imminent heavy maneuvers,” Lieutenant Castries broadcast through the ship. “Secure yourselves now.”
Desjani’s fingers played across her controls, Dauntless pivoting under her thrusters, then a mighty hand pinned Geary into his seat as the main propulsion lit off at nearly full, the acceleration so strong that some of it leaked past the inertial dampers that kept the stress from tearing apart the ship and squashing the crew.
Geary saw the projected vector for Dauntless spring to life on his display, a vast curve running outward to meet up with the projected track of the Syndic ships and the Dancers fleeing from them. This was what battle cruisers were for, sacrificing most of the armor and some of the firepower of battleships in favor of less mass and more main propulsion. Despite their size they were the most agile ships humanity had ever constructed, made to get where they needed to be as fast as possible, and catch anyone trying to outrun them.
His comm circuit came to life. “Admiral! What are you doing?” Ambassador Rycerz demanded.
“Trying to save those Dancer ships,” Geary said, hearing his voice distorted slightly because of the strain of acceleration his body was under. “Don’t worry. Boundless and everyone aboard her is safe.”
“I do not want to lose you, Admiral.”
“We are in agreement on that, Ambassador. I assure you the only people who are going to lose this day are the Syndics.”
He couldn’t really promise that, not when Dauntless was trying to draw off six Syndic battle cruisers single-handedly until more Alliance support could arrive.
As Dauntless shot away from the rest of Formation Alpha, Geary found himself wondering how Dr. Cresida and John Senn were feeling about their decisions to remain aboard the ship.
* * *
THE images of the fighting, now only ten minutes old, showed the three Dancer ships that had been escorting the Syndics maneuvering wildly to avoid a storm of hell lance shots. The Dancers were doing their usual amazing job of flying their ships, but against the odds and firepower they were facing, that wasn’t good enough. Hits were being scored, the shields on the Dancer ships being worn down. No shots had penetrated the Dancer hulls yet, but that was only a matter of time.
“They should be seeing our maneuver about now,” Lieutenant Yuon reported.
That meant that even if the Syndics immediately shifted vectors to aim for an intercept of Dauntless, it wouldn’t be seen on Dauntless for at least another ten minutes. But it might immediately take pressure off the Dancers.
Desjani had chosen a vector that avoided joining up with either of the Alliance battle cruiser formations, and in fact was accelerating so quickly that Dauntless was drawing out ahead of both groups of battle cruisers. Geary realized that in terms of bait that was probably the best move to make, even though under other circumstances as a tactic it was recklessly aggressive.
Geary saw a red warning pulsing on his display.
“Captain,” engineering called, “we’re getting hull stress warnings. Recommend reducing acceleration to a safe level.”
“How long can she handle this?” Desjani asked, her voice calm.
“I . . . don’t know, Captain. We’re not supposed to do this.”
“Dauntless can take it a little longer,” Desjani said.
Geary gave Desjani a side-eyed look, sure that his worry showed.
She winked in reply, smiling. “She can take it,” Desjani repeated.
Geary was trying to focus on his display when a prolonged groan came from the ship’s structure somewhere deep inside Dauntless. The whine of the overloaded inertial dampers, usually far below the level of human hearing, had risen to a low buzz like that of an approaching hornet.
Desjani’s hand finally moved again, Dauntless’s acceleration slackening, the whine of the inertial dampers subsiding, the ship seeming to sigh with relief as the strain on her structure fell back within normal parameters. “We needed to get out in front. Alone,” she said.
“That’s a good plan,” Geary agreed, glad to no longer feel pinned in his seat by acceleration forces leaking past the dampers. “Have you ever actually destroyed a ship that way?” he added in a low voice.
She pretended to ponder the question. “Do you mean by accident or on purpose?”
“Never mind.”
Calls were coming in from Captain Duellos and Captain Badaya, the commanders of the two battle cruiser groups, so Geary linked them and answered both together. The ships were still only several light seconds apart, making real-time conversation possible. “You probably wonder what we’re doing.”
Captain Duellos smiled, hoisting an imaginary glass in a toast. “It’s obvious that Tanya is driving. No one else could get that sort of performance out of a battle cruiser.”
Badaya, far less diplomatically, shook his head. “You need to fall back so we can join up.”
“No,” Geary said. “The whole point of this is to give the Syndics a target so attractive they forget about attacking those Dancers and come charging in to try to destroy Dauntless before any other Alliance ships can catch up.”
“Isn’t it obvious that you’re doing just that? Trying to bait them?” Badaya’s expression cleared as he realized the answer to his own question. “The Syndics aren’t thinking straight. All they’ll see is the opportunity they want.”
“I’m still a bit worried by how far ahead of us you’ll likely be when the Syndics intercept you,” Duellos said.
“We have to make the bait look attractive,” Geary said. “Do not try to close the distance until we engage the Syndics.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
That call ended, Geary pondered for a moment before turning toward the comms watch. “I want to send a message to the Syndic CEO.”
“Yes, Admiral. It’s ready, sir. Circuit four.”
Geary straightened in his seat before touching the command. “CEO . . . Gordini is it?” If he wanted to get the Syndics chasing him, he might as well enrage the ego of the CEO a little more. And this message would confirm for the Syndics that he was still aboard Dauntless. “You are ordered to cease all offensive action and depart not only this star system but all of Dancer-controlled space. The Alliance will not stand by while you attack our friends.” The Dancers would surely pick up the transmission. He might as well say things the Dancers would like. “To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”
After ending the message he heard a chuckle from the back of the bridge. Colonel Rogero had strapped into a pullout seat near the observer seat occupied by Kommodor Bradamont. Now he was smiling. “Admiral, even if that CEO was completely sane she’d be enraged by that message. Their pride is very important to them.”
Desjani turned to smile at Bradamont. “How was that driving?”
“Not bad,” Bradamont said, acting unimpressed. She had once commanded the Alliance battle cruiser Dragon. “I see you’ve learned a few things from watching me.”
“From watching you?” Desjani laughed. “Do you really think you could teach me anything about driving a battle cruiser?”
“Anytime you want to give it a test,” Bradamont said. “If you’re not worried about going head-to-head with me.”
“It’s on. Next time we’re at Midway,” Desjani said, while Colonel Rogero eyed Bradamont with open worry.
“You’re not going to race Bradamont once we’re back at Midway,” Geary muttered to Desjani. “That’s not authorized use of a battle cruiser. And I have a feeling that President Iceni will feel the same way about Bradamont borrowing Midway’s battle cruiser to race you.”
“Hey,” Desjani said, “before you returned from the dead I was sure I’d be with my ancestors sooner rather than later. I’m getting my love of life back. And I do love driving a battle cruiser.”
“We’re seeing the Syndics break off from the Dancers,” Lieutenant Yuon reported.
Geary studied his display, watching the aspects of the Syndic warships change as they altered vectors. The once unusually rigid Syndic formation had nearly fallen apart while the Syndics pursued the Dancers, and completely dissolved as Geary watched. Ten minutes ago, the Syndics had abandoned any other task and hurled their ships on intercepts with Dauntless.
But as the Syndics left off pursuit of the Dancers, missiles shot out from the Syndic battle cruisers, arcing around to chase the Dancer ships. The Dancers, freed from dodging hell lances, were accelerating straight out at rates human ships couldn’t match, walking away from the Syndic missiles.
Geary blinked, trying to resolve blurs that were appearing on his display’s images of the Syndics. “What’s happening to the displays?”
“Admiral, we’re passing point two light speed,” Lieutenant Castries replied. “The Syndics are coming up past point one light. That’s a combined velocity of more than point three light speed, and at point three light speed and above, our sensors can’t precisely compensate for distortion of space-time caused by relativity. They can’t show us exactly where the Syndics are or exactly what they look like. The blurs will grow larger if we keep accelerating.”
“That’s what lieutenants are for,” Captain Desjani murmured to Geary. “To remind admirals of things they should already know.”
“I was focused too much on the Dancer problem,” Geary grumbled in reply.
“As you should be,” she said. “I can handle Dauntless’s engagement with these guys. Armus, Duellos, and Badaya can handle vectoring their formations to hit the Syndics. You taught them how to do that well. Which means you can and should focus on other things.”
He took a deep breath before nodding. “Right. I don’t have to call all of the shots anymore. Not in this kind of situation. I have to trust my people to do their jobs. But I want to ensure those Syndics stay focused on hitting Dauntless. We have to make sure they have a target they think they can hit.”
“And chances of a hit at our current combined velocities are effectively zero,” she agreed. “They’ll have a decent target, Admiral. We’ll brake in plenty of time for that. I’m going to stop acceleration when we hit point two five light.”
Geary sighed. “Hard braking?”
“Not that hard.” Desjani grinned. “We have to look like we want a fight.”
“You do want a fight, Captain.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Her expression shifted to serious. “Since it’s been forced on us, I am going to fight this one and win it.”
Only two minutes later Desjani cut off the main propulsion as Dauntless reached point two five light speed. They could have kept accelerating, limited only by their amount of fuel and by relativity, which would cause the mass of Dauntless to increase the closer they got to the speed of light. But slowing down required the same amount of fuel to brake velocity as accelerating did. No one wanted to be caught in a ship traveling at point four or point five light speed without enough fuel to slow down again.
Desjani’s fingers moved on her controls and moments later thrusters fired on Dauntless, pitching the battle cruiser over and around so her main propulsion was aimed in the direction the ship was going, her bow now facing back the way they’d come. As soon as the ship lined up, the main propulsion thundered back to life, now working to slow the ship it had been accelerating.
Fortunately, already out ahead of the other Alliance ships, they had more time to slow down and didn’t have to brake as hard as they’d accelerated. Even though the engineering watch had their eyes glued to the stress readouts, the readings only veered to the edge of the red danger zone without going into unsafe levels.
“Fifteen minutes until intercept,” Lieutenant Yuon reported.
The Dancer ships that the Syndics had been attacking had avoided the Syndic missiles and were coming back around. Were they going to assist in the attack on the Syndics? Probably not, since they weren’t accelerating all out anymore. In fact, there wasn’t any indication the Dancers were going to help with a “human problem.”
A sudden thought hit him, prompting another call to Charban. “General, that last Dancer message where they told us this was a human problem for humans to solve. Did you get any sense of emotion in that message?”
“It’s odd you should ask,” Charban replied. “We were discussing that. Dr. Cresida and Lieutenant Jamenson both noted that the lines in the reply were briefer, ending in ways that felt abrupt, and the words used also shorter. Lieutenant Jamenson says the Dancer reply feels angry to her.”
“I was afraid of that,” Geary said. “This isn’t just the Dancers telling us to fix a human problem. They’re upset that our human problems are spilling over into their area of space.”
“I can understand that,” Charban said. “But surely the Dancers understand that we’re not the sheriffs of humanity. We can’t . . . what’s the old expression . . . ride herd on every other human who wants to contact them.”
“But the Dancers may want us to do just that,” Geary said. “And the enigmas may have known that when they threw open the gates for humanity to get to Dancer space more easily than before.”
“Even after this battle is over, this whole thing is going to be even more difficult than we expected, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.” Geary checked his display. “We’re ten minutes from intercept. Excuse me while I oversee a battle.”
The oncoming Syndics were slightly below and to the left of Dauntless, their relative bearing unchanging since they were headed straight for an intercept of the Alliance battle cruiser. What had begun as a formation with interlocking fields of fire had become one big blob of ships led by the Syndic battle cruisers followed by some of the heavy cruisers and Hunter-Killers, another blob extending back and upward with the rest of the heavy cruisers, and a smaller, extended blob holding four Hunter-Killers. With the battle cruisers and heavy cruisers accelerating all out, the small HuKs were unable to keep up and were slowly sliding farther behind the other Syndic warships.
Almost directly behind Dauntless was Formation Alpha, the main body of the Alliance fleet. Accelerating much more slowly, they probably wouldn’t reach the fight in time to make a difference. But since their primary task remained defending Boundless, the auxiliaries, and the assault transports, that wasn’t critical.
Behind, to the right of, and above Dauntless were the battle cruisers of Formation Bravo One under the command of Captain Duellos, racing to join the fight. Behind, slightly below, and to the left of Dauntless were the battle cruisers of Formation Bravo Two, commanded by Captain Badaya, also charging toward the fight. The relative positions of both of those formations were slowly shifting, because they were aiming not to intercept Dauntless but for the area they thought the Syndics would be in when their ships reached the battle somewhere between fifteen and twenty minutes after Dauntless and the Syndics met up.
