A lot of Syndic activity could be seen around the gas giant, currently orbiting on the other side of Heradao’s star from the Alliance fleet, indicating substantial off-planet mining and manufacturing under way. But diverting to that gas giant to loot its mines for raw materials to fill the bunkers of the auxiliaries would take the fleet too far from the path to the jump point for Padronis.
“Do we have to fight?” Rione suddenly asked. “Can’t we just race past the Syndic defenders? You’ve told me that velocities above point two light speed cause so much relativistic distortion that Alliance and Syndic targeting systems can’t compensate well enough to reliably hit other ships. If this fleet heads for the jump point for Padronis at a high enough velocity, the Syndics won’t be able to do damage to us.”
“Or us to them,” Desjani muttered too low for Rione to hear.
Geary thought about it, then shook his head. “It’d be too easy.” Before an incredulous Rione could say anything else, he pointed at the display. “The Syndics know how badly we need to reach that jump point. They know we could try blowing past them, and they’ve had time to prepare for that.”
“What could they have done?” Rione asked, then frowned. “Mines?”
“Yeah. Mines. Look at that small flotilla there between the main Syndic group and the jump point for Padronis. They’re in a perfect position to track our trajectory past the main flotilla and plant mines along our path. If we were going fast enough that the Syndic targeting systems couldn’t hit us, we’d also be going so fast that our own systems wouldn’t have any chance of spotting those mines, or any others already laid along our probable tracks between the jump exit where we arrived and the jump point for Padronis. They could drop the mines right in front of us along our track in as dense a pattern as they could manage.”
Desjani was frowning now. “They shouldn’t have that many mines left, but they could have transferred everything from the other warships onto that small flotilla.”
“If we did strike a minefield, there’s no telling which ships might get hit,” Geary added, “and the higher impact velocity would increase the force of the mines.”
Rione stared past him for a moment, her brow furrowed in annoyance. He didn’t have to say openly that Dauntless could be the victim of such a mine strike, and Dauntless had to get home. “What’s your plan then?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You knew we were likely to encounter the Syndics here. You must have planned something.”
Geary felt a familiar headache starting, while, unseen by Rione, Desjani rolled her eyes. “Madam Co-President, I knew I’d probably find the Syndics here, but I didn’t know in what strength or how they’d be positioned. Unless we found them waiting at the jump exit and had to fight right off the bat, I knew I’d have to develop a plan once I saw the situation.”
“How long will that take?” Rione pressed.
“Madam Co-President, has anyone ever told you that sometimes you can be extremely demanding?”
She smiled with mock sweetness. “Thank you for the compliment. But we were talking about your plan, not me.”
“I’ll let you know. We’ve got time to think, and I won’t waste that.” Geary stood up and nodded to Desjani. “We’ll stay on course for the jump point for Padronis. I’m going to walk around and think a bit. If you get any ideas, or the Syndics react to our presence, give me a hail.”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave Desjani a suspicious look, but this once “yes, sir” appeared to mean nothing but that. Geary walked the passageways of Dauntless, returning salutes and greetings from the crew almost absentmindedly as he thought. The basic problem was that the Syndics had been learning and adapting to his tactics. He couldn’t count on any more brainless charges straight for the center of the Alliance formation that would allow the Alliance fleet to bring to bear all of its firepower just where Geary wanted it.
There were ways around that, ways to confuse and out-maneuver the Syndics, but all of those ways required more use of fuel cells. A fleet wasn’t supposed to find itself in a situation where fuel-cell reserves were so low. But like many other things that weren’t supposed to happen, he had to deal with that reality. His steps took him through many passageways, across the width of the ship more than once, past living areas and hell-lance batteries, and no inspiration struck. Neither did Desjani call with some concept that might work. He thought that in some ways she still had too much confidence in him, too much certainty that the great Black Jack Geary would manage with the help of the living stars to pull yet another rabbit out of his hat just when that rabbit was desperately needed.
Finally, Geary paused, took his bearings, and headed for the one place where he might receive wisdom beyond that of anyone in the fleet.
Down here, as deep within Dauntless as any compartment could be, as well protected as any part of the ship, were the small rooms where comfort and guidance could be sought. Geary didn’t know for certain why he’d come here now. It never hurt for the crew to see their fleet commander displaying proper piety, but anything that might smack of public displays of worship had always bothered him. It could also backfire if the fleet concluded that he was not so much pious as desperate for advice. Especially since there was some truth to that.
Geary closed the door and sat in one of the tiny, private rooms on the traditional wooden bench, his eyes fixed on the flickering flame of the candle he had lit to help warm the spirits of his ancestors. “As far as I know,” he finally said out loud, “none of you were legendary military commanders. I’m still not sure how I got stuck with the title. The odds are against us here, the fleet’s fuel supplies are so low that I can’t afford fancy tricks to sucker the Syndics, and the enemy has clearly been studying what I’ve been doing in battles and are trying to counter that. I fear that the best outcome here would be a bloody engagement in which this fleet would be victorious but decimated. The worst outcome…”
He shrugged. “I need something new. Something unexpected. The only thing I can think of that the logistics situation would allow is surprising the enemy with an attack in the style this fleet had grown accustomed to, straight into the teeth of the Syndic flotilla. But even if that worked, the cost could be huge. My battle cruisers can’t take that kind of engagement on top of the damage they’re already carrying, and I don’t have enough battleships to form a shield for the battle cruisers.”
Geary sat for a while, watching the candle grow shorter. “Too bad I can’t just throw the battleships at the Syndics, but even they need support against that much Syndic firepower. The battle cruisers would have to be right beside them even though it doesn’t make sense for them to charge into that kind of hornet’s nest. But I’ve already seen that my battle-cruiser captains will still do that even against orders because they think their honor requires it. I need the battle cruisers to avoid direct charges at the enemy, I need to hit the Syndics with my battleships, and I need to keep the Syndics guessing. But how do I do all of that, especially without complicating the battle beyond my ability to control it? I lost the bubble at Cavalos, let myself get overwhelmed by the complexity of the battle and couldn’t make any decisions for far too long. If that happens here, the results could be a lot worse. I need some different approach.”
A different approach. How to build it? What were his advantages? Not numbers, not firepower, not munitions, not fuel. No friendly bases within reach. Ship for ship, the Syndic warships were roughly comparable to their Alliance counterparts, although Syndic Hunter-Killers were significantly smaller and less capable than Alliance destroyers. But then the Syndics tended to have superior numbers of HuKs on hand because they were smaller and cheaper. The Alliance warships had a lot better onboard capability for damage control and repair, but even that required time for repairs to be made before the Syndics hit a badly damaged Alliance ship again.