“Good plan,” she replied. “Except… I know it’s unusual for me to worry about diplomatic junk, but maybe this one time it might be a good idea to make sure they fire first.”
“So we’re unquestionably acting in self-defense? Do you have any suggestions on how we can bring that about, Captain Desjani?”
“As a matter of fact, I do, Admiral Geary.” Desjani moved her hands to illustrate her words as she outlined her plan. “We brake Dauntless’s velocity to point zero five light and let the Dancers continue on toward Old Earth at point one light while the Covies overtake us a lot faster. The Covies keep telling us to drop our shields and we keep telling them it’s not going to happen in ways that will make Mister Medals even more unhappy with our attitudes. When we get in range, Mister Medals opens fire, Dauntless lights off full acceleration, and we avoid their first volley of missiles. Then we kick their butts.”
“An interesting plan,” Geary said. “The last part is a little vague, though.”
“We’ll have to improvise.”
The meds had definitely kicked in. The lurking beast had gone from his mind. Geary studied his display with a mind clear and focused, the past only something that he could use to help figure out tactics to employ here and now. “It’s risky. We don’t know how good their missiles are.”
Desjani brought up, floating between her and Geary, an image of the Covenant formation. “Did you look at this? Watch.” She waved in another command, and curved lines connected the warships, the lines forming—
“A bird?” Geary said, not believing what he was seeing. “They’re arranged that way because it makes a pretty picture?”
“Yes. Those four corvettes and megacruisers on the sides? We couldn’t figure out why they were there because we were evaluating the formation in terms of functionality in battle. But if you look at that formation in terms of show, the two corvettes and single megacruiser on either side form the wings.”
“Ancestors preserve us. They’re getting ready to fight us in a parade formation?”
“That woman from Old Earth,” Desjani pressed, “said there hadn’t been any fighting around here for decades and nothing serious for centuries. Imagine our own fleet headquarters without any actual combat issues or experience or demands to influence their decisions. Decade after decade of that, the emphasis on how good things look rather than how well they work, while weapons and designs are evaluated in bureaucratic terms rather than whether they work or not and officers get awards for how fancy their hair is done up.”
“Mister Medals.” He looked at his display using new eyes. “But there are a lot of them and only one of us. What if they send a pursuit after the Dancers?”
“Those clowns cannot catch the Dancer ships unless the Dancers let them,” Desjani said.
“True. We’ll have to assume the Dancers will stay clear of trouble. That leaves Old Earth and the other historical sites throughout this star system. We can’t risk anything’s happening to those places.”
She stared at him. “You don’t think they’d fire on Home?”
“I don’t know.” He let his own gaze settle again on the blue-white orb shown on his display. “You and I look at that and can’t imagine doing it harm. But the craters on the surface show that in the past other humans have dropped rocks on the Home of all of us. What humans have done once, they can do again. That’s why we can’t afford to string this out using the distance to Old Earth’s orbit. The farther we go in-system, the closer we get to places like Home, and Mars and Venus, as well as all of the shipping near those planets. We’ll have to get this done out here, where space is emptier, and we’ll have to keep the attention of the Covies focused on us.”
It had worked at Grendel. Well enough, anyway.
If Dauntless dies here, if Tanya stays with her to the end, so will I. What the hell, I had a good run. But I lost everything once. I won’t lose everything that matters to me now.
Ancestors, what if she dies in the battle, and I don’t?
It must not happen. I will keep it from happening.
“Very well, Captain Desjani. We’ll follow your plan. Wait a couple of minutes, then reduce the velocity of Dauntless to point zero five light speed.” Geary tapped an internal comm control. “Envoy Charban, are you having any luck?”
Charban shrugged. “I can’t tell.”
“Dauntless is going to be slowing considerably, but we want the Dancers to continue on toward Old Earth without us. Can you get across to the Dancers that the other warships are enemies who are likely to attack us, and will attack them if the other warships get within range?”
“Brother enemies,” Charban said. “The Dancers understand that concept. I’ll tell them to keep on keeping on, and we’ll hope they do that.”
Maneuvering thrusters fired on Dauntless, pitching her bow up and over so that it faced back along her track, toward where the Covenant formation was coming on steadily. The main propulsion units fired to reduce her velocity, though Geary noticed that Desjani was only using half of the main units for that task. If the Covenant ships evaluated Dauntless’s maneuverability based on that, they would seriously underestimate her actual agility.
With the closure rate increasing dramatically, the time to contact began rapidly decreasing. “Forty minutes until the Covenant warships will be able to fire upon us if their missile ranges are equivalent to ours,” Lieutenant Yuon said.
Geary nodded absently, his eyes on the Dancers. They had matched Dauntless’s pivot, but were now pivoting back and moving onward without reducing speed. So far, so good. “Tanya, when we get into the estimated range envelope of the Covenant missiles, I’m going to leave when and how to maneuver Dauntless up to you.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” Desjani looked back at her watch-standers. “Bring Dauntless to full combat status, but I do not want any sound of that to reach the senators aboard this ship. Keep their compartment silent.”
Geary nodded in an exaggerated manner. “We don’t want to interrupt their discussions. Those are very important.”
“Uh… right. Get the word out, people.”
Passageways and compartments that the day before had been filled with laughter and celebration would now be filled with officers and sailors racing to their combat stations. Real weapons would be powered up, real targets would be selected, and neither Jove’s trident nor Callisto’s bow would decide the result.
“All departments, report full combat readiness,” Lieutenant Castries said.
The image of Master Chief Gioninni appeared near Desjani. “Captain, as senior enlisted officer aboard the ship, I wish to suggest that you explain what’s going on. There are a lot of rumors flying, and with this being Sol, people are worried about different things than usual.”
“That’s a good suggestion, Master Chief,” Desjani approved. “Admiral Geary will address the crew.”
I will?
“Thank you, Captain.” Gioninni’s image vanished.
“Whenever you are ready, Admiral,” Desjani said, smiling at him.
“Thank you, Captain,” Geary said, deliberately echoing Gioninni. “Do you have a copy of what I was going to say? Because I seem to be having trouble recalling what it was.”
“No, but I remember the gist of it,” Desjani replied confidently, giving no hint that she was making it up as she went along. “Something about defending Sol and Old Earth against aggressors who have already targeted us.”