“Yes, but the enemy could still use their own gate to send in reinforcements quickly or mount a counterattack aimed at retaking the system.”
“Yes, sir.” Desjani seemed to think that didn’t require explanation.
The reason dawned on Geary. He hadn’t been thinking like these modern fighters. “You want the enemy forces to show up.”
“Of course, Captain Geary. The point of offensive actions is to engage and destroy the enemy,” Desjani explained as if discussing something everyone knew. “Anything that makes it easier for enemy forces to arrive for combat furthers the goal of bringing the enemy to battle. A functioning enemy gate offers a guaranteed battlefield.”
“Of course.” Strip war down to its most basic element, and that was it. Kill the enemy. Looked at that way, it made perfect sense to leave the enemy hypernet gate intact, because that meant more enemies could be counted upon to arrive, and then you could try to kill them. Thanks to that functioning hypernet gate, the enemy would be reinforcing faster than you, but that just meant more targets. No wonder they’ve taken such losses. It’s not just the loss of battle-fighting expertise, it’s an attitude that places killing above winning. They’d forgotten that winning smart can kill more enemies than slugging it out toe-to-toe.
Geary studied his fleet formation for perhaps the one hundredth time in the last few hours. How did you best deal with a massively outnumbered enemy force that wanted your fleet to get close? He kept coming up with the same answer, even though it wasn’t foolproof. “We’ll have to split the fleet formation.”
Desjani nodded, betraying no concern.
Geary made a decision, knowing he could otherwise spend endless time debating with himself because there wasn’t any single obviously right way to do this. He worked the controls, setting up formations that broke the main body of the fleet into six sections, each composed of a mix of capital ships and escorts.
“Six?” Desjani asked, finally surprised.
“Yes. I want to avoid giving the Syndics the concentrated target they want. I also want to be able to employ our firepower against them, which I can’t if we’re in formations so much larger than our targets that a lot of our units are out of contact.” Geary hesitated, then mashed the control sending the orders to the fleet. “All units in the Alliance fleet, this is Captain Geary. New formation assignments are en route to your units. Formation execution will be at time two zero. I intend having each formation conducting passes against Syndic Force Bravo until it either flees the area of the hypernet gate or is destroyed.”
Desjani studied the information on her own display, eyes narrowed in thought. “Six formations. Each swinging past the Syndics in turn before arching out and coming around again. Like a huge wheel. We’ll simply pound them to pieces if they don’t move.”
“That’s the idea,” Geary agreed.
“You’ve put Dauntless back in Formation Delta,” Desjani observed.
“Yes.” He could tell Desjani was a bit miffed about that, about being fourth in line. “I think the Syndics are going to hold out for the first three passes. By the time the fourth formation approaches, which will be Delta, I believe they’ll do something. I want to have Dauntless there when they do.” Desjani smiled, as did the watch-standers on the bridge. Geary felt slightly guilty, knowing he’d also held Dauntless back because of the likelihood that the Syndics wouldn’t survive the first three formation passes and he was duty-bound to get Dauntless and the Syndic hypernet key safely home to Alliance space. Odds were that Dauntless would only be sweeping up the remnants of the Syndics.
Unless things went very badly and the Syndics started taking down that hypernet gate. In which case, key on board or not, Geary knew he had to be close to the scene.
“Kinetic rounds inbound,” the weapons watch announced in an almost bored voice. They’d already easily dodged a half-dozen attempts to target them, seeing the rounds approaching from such a long distance that the tiniest course correction or change in speed guaranteed a miss. “Origin from hypernet gate defenses.”
“We’ll give them something to worry about soon enough,” Desjani observed gleefully.
Geary briefly wondered what Captain Desjani would do for fun if the war somehow ended, and smashing Syndics was no longer an acceptable way to pass the time.
Dauntless’s maneuvering systems kicked in at time two zero, shoving her mass down and over to the place where she’d wait for the rest of Formation Delta to form around her. All around Dauntless the other ships of the fleet broke from the positions they’d held, as if an incredibly huge machine had just disassembled itself into component parts. The parts swung through space, weaving intricate patterns as they headed for new positions, the massive machine reassembling itself into six new machines, each a smaller version of the big machine they’d all once made up.
It took time for all of those ships to move across those distances, forming up so that the last formation in line was several light-minutes behind the first. The reassembly hadn’t quite finished when the weapons watch called out again. “Weapons system recommends launching kinetic rounds at Syndic Force Bravo in one minute.”
Geary nodded. “Do it.”
Geary’s rearrangement of the ships in the fleet had required the weapons system to rethink which ship should launch projectiles at what, but that required much less than a second of calculations. At exactly the optimum time, ships began automatically firing the barrage at the Syndic defenders of the hypernet gate.
Only three light-minutes still separated the leading Alliance ships from the Syndic defenders of the hypernet gate. At a velocity of .1 light, that meant thirty minutes, perhaps the longest half hour Geary thought he would ever experience. Talk about relativistic distortion. Time itself seemed to have slowed to a crawl.
“Syndic defenders conducting evasive maneuvers to dodge incoming kinetic rounds,” the weapons watch reported. “Systems report four of the Syndic battleships are changing their positions along predicted tracks.”
“They’re doing it,” Desjani murmured. “Just like you thought, Captain Geary.”
“Let’s see if they’ve got enough control of their ships to dodge,” he cautioned, feeling his guts tightening.
“Formation Alpha commencing firing pass on Syndic defenders. Syndic forces are firing.”
Geary centered his display on the action. Alliance destroyers and light cruisers swept in on either side, hammering the defensive units near the gate. With powerful shields, the units managed to shrug off the fire of the lighter units, but then heavy cruisers came past, tossing grapeshot out in tight firing patterns and following with barrages from their hell-lance batteries. The metal ball bearings of the grapeshot hit the weakened defensive shields, vaporizing on impact; then the charged particle spears fired by the hell-lance batteries ripped on through. Defensive unit after defensive unit reeled under hits, blown out of position and knocked out of action by impacts.
Meanwhile, the big warships in the center of Alliance Formation Alpha tore past the center of Syndic Force Bravo, the heavily damaged enemy battleships and battle cruisers still holding station opposite the center of the gate. The Alliance battleships Fearless, Resolution, Redoubtable, and Warspite hammered the hapless Syndics as they each passed closest to the enemy. The battleships had chosen to hold off firing grapeshot or specter missiles, depending instead on the massive hell-lance batteries they carried. Weak Syndic defensive fire glanced harmlessly from the battleships’ powerful shields, while volleys from the Alliance ships tore into the already battered Syndics. First one battleship blew up, then another, then two battle cruisers, leaving a single crippled battle cruiser holding the center of the Syndic formation.