The light cruiser Manticore was aiming for twisted to starboard and out, then swung port and in, climbing and turning in a vast corkscrew as it attempted to get past the defending heavy cruiser. Diaz, his face tense with concentration, matched the maneuvers, trying to ensure he would remain on an intercept and not tear past the attacker and leave the light cruiser with a clear path to the freighters.
All around the vector along which the freighters would be coming, similar moves and countermoves were taking place as warships moving at point one light speed, or thirty thousand kilometers a second, twisted through arcs and turns whose width would have been incredibly broad measured against the surface of a planet. The distance required to change direction when moving at such velocities was huge in space as well, but also tiny compared to the size of the enormous, literally limitless-in-all-directions, battlefield on which the warships were engaging each other.
A Syndicate HuK being blocked by two Midway HuKs darted toward what looked like a gap between them, getting past one defender but finding itself unable to avoid the second. Hell lances shot between the two HuKs, hammering at the weak shields and nearly nonexistent armor of the Hunter-Killers, the Syndicate HuK breaking back, then diving away to avoid the second Midway HuK as it stormed into the engagement.
The light cruiser trying to evade past Manticore inadvertently swung for a moment into the missile engagement envelope of Kraken. The automated fire control systems on Kraken immediately pumped out two missiles, doubtless startling Kraken’s crew almost as much as it did the light cruiser. As Kraken continued swinging far to port to block the light cruiser she was pursuing, her missiles tore after the light cruiser being chased by Manticore. Unable to cope with both threats and continue trying to reach the freighters, that light cruiser rolled all the way over and began accelerating away for all he was worth while the missiles thundered in single-minded pursuit.
The single Syndicate HuK trying to get past light cruiser Falcon tried to dart under her, but Falcon had anticipated the maneuver and slammed repeated hell lances into the HuK. The Syndicate warship staggered away, accelerating frantically, holes pitting him where hell lances had punched completely through hull, equipment, and any crew members unfortunate enough to be in the way before the only-slightly-weakened particle beams shot out the opposite side.
The other Syndicate warships pulled away, taking up positions where they hovered relative to the defenders, unable to get through this time but clearly preparing to try again.
The entire bridge team on Manticore gave the impression of sighing with relief as it became apparent the first assault by the Syndicate warships had been deflected.
“Don’t relax,” Kapitan Diaz ordered his crew. “We stopped them, but they’ll be back.”
Marphissa, taking in the sheer volume of space involved in her defensive effort, shook her head. The light cruiser being chased by Kraken’s missiles had managed to outrun them and was now coming back, while the damaged HuK had slowed its retreat and was angling back toward his comrades. Syndicate warships were ranged around the forward portion of the freighters’ track and out to all sides, with great gaps between them. None of them had shifted position farther back than about even with the freighters, wanting to avoid stern chases as they made firing runs. That left a defensive perimeter in the shape of half of an elongated sphere, the long axis running forward of the freighters.
“You were right,” Marphissa told Bradamont. “They’ve spread out in an attempt to make me spread out my own ships. If I tried to defend every point in a region that size, it would be hopeless. Only by focusing on the attackers and stopping them at each specific point where they try to penetrate the defenses can I make this work.”
“You’d still have a lot of problems if you didn’t have the superiority in numbers that you do,” Bradamont pointed out. She must have noticed Kapitan Diaz looking speculatively at her and Marphissa, because Bradamont added something else. “I discussed the theory of this type of operation with your Kommodor, Kapitan Diaz. She is commanding your defense.”
Marphissa took a moment to glance at Bradamont. “What do you think Sub-CEO Qui will try next? Just more of the same?”
“Probably plenty of more of the same,” Bradamont said. “Individual ships trying to get to the freighters if they think they see an opening, and coordinated attempts to break through at multiple points. But you also need to look for him deliberately sacrificing some of his ships by putting them onto vectors that lure a lot of your ships into lunging for them to get in on the kill. If Qui does it right, that could leave big gaps in your defenses that his remaining ships could charge through.”
Marphissa shook her head again. “No. That wouldn’t work. I’ve assigned targets to each of my ships now. They’re not going to go after someone else unless I tell them to.”
“Huh?” Bradamont’s look of puzzlement cleared. “Oh. I forgot. You’re Syndics.”
“What did you say?” Normally, Marphissa probably would have enjoyed knowing that Bradamont had forgotten for a moment at least that she and her comrades had been part of the Syndicate not all that long ago. But a statement that she and they still were Syndicate was another matter.
The heat in her response caused Bradamont to flush. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I was thinking about what would work against an Alliance force defending those freighters. But you’ve been trained differently.”
Differently. That was a nice way of describing a system in which failure to obey in all ways meant extremely serious consequences. But… “It’s nice to hear one way in which we’re superior to Black Jack’s fleet,” Marphissa said.
“I guess in this context you are,” Bradamont admitted.
“Kommodor,” Diaz said cautiously, “I believe that the Alliance Kapitan may be right in her suggestion.”
“You do?” Marphissa felt an alarming impulse to slap Diaz down for expressing an opinion contrary to hers. When did I start getting angry at people who didn’t agree with me? When did listening become harder? “You do?” she repeated in a manner more questioning and less intimidating.
“Sub-CEO Qui is a snake,” Diaz explained. “Snakes always think citizens will do things they are not supposed to do. They always think we’re going to do something wrong. And Qui is a sub-CEO. You know what Syndicate CEOs and sub-CEOs are like. They think if they’re not standing right behind you and making sure you do just what they say, you’ll screw up and do what you’re not supposed to. It doesn’t matter how many times they see workers do things right. They still think that.”
“Not all CEOs and sub-CEOs are like that,” Marphissa corrected. “Look at President Iceni. But, otherwise, you have a point. Qui may think that would work, especially since he will assume our ships are controlled by recently promoted executives and workers.”
“They are,” Diaz pointed out. “A lot of them, anyway.”
And, maybe, Diaz was right that not all of those new commanders would adhere to strict Syndicate discipline, lacking enough experience with higher rank under that system. Two of the Midway Hunter-Killers had commanders who had been vaulted up in rank even more rapidly than Marphissa had. “Thank you for bringing that up,” she said. “Both of you.”
After another moment’s thought, she tapped her comms again. “All warships in the Recovery Flotilla, you are to remain focused on the Syndicate warships you have been assigned as targets. You are not to attempt to engage or pursue any other Syndicate warship unless you receive orders from me to do so. I am confident that if you continue to perform as well as you have so far, we will defeat the Syndicate.”