Duellos acknowledged the newest order, sounding definitely gleeful this time. The Alliance fleet had taken some heavy loses in the Syndic home system from mines laid as part of the ambush, so Geary didn’t begrudge any desire by Alliance sailors for retaliation on that count.
Another tap on a circuit to communicate with the entire fleet. “All units, with the exception of the Second and Fourth Battle Cruiser Squadrons, are to assume standard fleet-attack formation Alpha Six immediately upon receipt of this message.” The units of the fleet, jumbled by the battle in the Syndic home system and the pell-mell retreat through the jump point, hadn’t been able to reform while in jump space and now needed to resume the semblance of an orderly formation again. Geary watched on his display as the ships and squadrons slowly acknowledged an order that took a few light-minutes to reach the farthest ships, trying not to shake his head at how scattered the fleet was.
“The fleet is still proceeding in-system at point one light speed,” Desjani reminded him. “It’s going to take some of those ships quite a while to reach their assigned positions.”
“Yeah.” Geary studied the display, still essentially empty of real-time threat information. “If we slow the fleet, individual ships will have an easier time taking station. But I don’t want to risk slowing the fleet until we’ve learned more about whatever Syndic force we’re hopefully surprising here.”
“Holding back never won a battle,” Desjani stated approvingly, in the manner of someone quoting a lesson.
Geary was still mentally shaking his head at Desjani’s statement when a chime sounded to call attention to the display. He watched as the time-late data from the inhabited world scrolled by. Analysis of imagery and things like chemical by-products in the atmosphere indicated the world was still running an industrialized economy, but with signs of inactive facilities and apparently not as heavily populated as expected given the length of time humans had been settled there. That matched what he’d heard about those systems that had been bypassed by the hypernet system slowly dying on the vine. A score of objects orbited the world, seven tagged as cold and probably mothballed and two labeled as likely military installations. No military shipping was visible in the more than eight-hour-old picture.
“The installation on the fourth world is active and assessed military,” the reconnaissance watch reported. “Two minor combatants are active near the base as of forty-one minutes time-late.”
Geary jerked his head around and stared at the system display of the frozen planet. They still didn’t have anything like a real-time picture of the area near the Syndic base, but as of forty minutes ago there’d been two Syndic ships there. We arrived in system less than ten minutes ago, so they won’t see us for another half hour. By then, we’ll be a lot closer to them. “Is the identification of those Syndic ships accurate? We’re sure that’s what they are?”
Desjani frowned, probably taking the questioning of her ship’s displayed information personally. “The IDs on the ships near the base? Yes, Captain Geary. Type and Class ID is certain. Model is tentative.”
“I’ll be damned.” Desjani gave Geary a wondering look, so he pointed at the display. “We called those things nickel corvettes in my time.”
“Nickel?”
“Yeah. Like the coins. They’re useful, but they don’t last long if you need to use them. Those ships were half-obsolescent when I…” Geary let his words trail off, not sure how to refer to his apparent death in battle a century ago. “When I was last in combat,” he finally stated.
Desjani snorted in amazement. “I’ve never seen that class of ships before. I suppose those corvettes must’ve been left here because it was easier to leave them in the hands of the local Corvus authorities than it would’ve been to dispose of them.”
“Probably.” For a moment, Geary imagined himself at that Syndic base or on those ships as the Alliance fleet came pouring out of the jump point. If the age of those Syndic ships was any indication, this system didn’t even really qualify as a backwater in the war. Decades, at least, since Corvus had been involved in the Alliance–Syndicate Worlds war, aside from sending in taxes and doubtless occasional shipments of draft-age young adults. For a few more minutes or a few more hours, depending on where in the system they were, they’d still think they were a backwater. Then they’d finally begin to see the Alliance fleet arriving, ship after ship becoming visible as the light from their arrival finally reached the various Syndic watchers. And they wouldn’t believe it for a few minutes, would they? Wouldn’t believe that here was the war arriving, in sudden and overwhelming force.
The fleet communications circuit came to life. “Captain Geary, this is Commander Zeas on the Truculent. We’re within weapons range of an active radar emitter focused on the jump point.”
“This is Geary. Take it out.” He glanced at Desjani. “I know that’s just a navigational aid, but it’s probably sending contact reports to that base.”
“I concur,” she agreed. “Though the reports will be going at light speed, so they won’t get there before visual sightings of us can take place from the base.”
“Every couple of minutes helps. Is the base itself sending out any active sensor emissions?” Geary checked the display even as he asked, knowing the answer should be there somewhere.
“No, sir.” Desjani indicated the proper data fields. “Did you expect that?”
“No.” Geary almost bridled at the question, then found a moment’s amusement in it. “Even in my primitive time it was obvious that radar would take twice as long to spot something as a visual sensor would, since the radar pulse has to go and return while the light from the object only has to travel that distance once.” The difference in time was insignificant on a planet’s surface, but when the size of a battlefield was measured in light-hours it mattered a lot.
Desjani gulped visibly. “I didn’t mean any disrespect—”
“I know that. I also know I’m out of date in a lot of ways, so I’d rather you keep on assuming I don’t know something. We’re safer that way, and frankly, Captain, I trust you with knowledge of my fallibility.”
“Yes, sir.” Desjani grinned. “You already know the trust that I and my crew have in you.”
This time, Geary tried not to wince. Trying to change the topic, he nodded toward the display. “I wish this wouldn’t take so long. Too bad we can’t do faster-than-light microjumps inside star systems.”
“Yes. The waiting has always been the hardest part for me,” Desjani confessed. “We can see the enemy, we know where they are, but it’ll still be almost four and a half hours before we get close enough to that base on the fourth world to turn it into craters.”
A new voice answered her. “You could go faster.” Both Desjani and Geary turned to see that Co-President Rione had come onto the bridge of the Dauntless. Rione looked directly at Geary. “Couldn’t you?”
Geary shrugged, trying to ignore the disdainful expression he could see out of the corner of his eye on Desjani’s face. “We could. I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” Rione came forward and sat in an unoccupied seat designated for observers, strapping herself in with carefully precise movements.
“Because among other things, the ships of this fleet are already averaging point one light speed. We’re in normal space and subject to the rules there. That means the faster we go, the worse we’ll run into relativistic effects.” Rione eyed him, plainly awaiting elaboration and leaving Geary wondering yet again how much she really knew and how much she was testing him. “To put it in the simplest possible terms, our perspective of everything outside of this ship gets increasingly distorted the faster we go. At point one light, we can still figure out what we’re looking at with some accuracy. As we get closer to the speed of light, it gets harder to tell where everything really is. I’m having enough trouble now figuring out where the enemy is located and where their ships are going. The last thing I need is to have to wonder where my own ships are, too.”