Geary called the fleet. “Stand down from combat imminent status. Rest your crews.”
“Sir, Howitzer is requesting instructions.”
He accepted the message, seeing Howitzer’s commanding officer’s jaw drop as she saw Geary. “What were your orders, Captain?” he asked.
It took Howitzer’s commanding officer a moment to recover. “Uh, sir, we had orders to maintain position near this jump point, acting as scout and courier as necessary.”
“Very well. I understand that’s not the most glamorous assignment, but it’s a very important one. Remain on station. If the Syndics succeed in causing the collapse of the hypernet gate here, you’ll see them destroying the tethers. Do not wait to view the collapse of the gate. If you do, you’ll be destroyed by the wave front coming out of it. You’ll be able to tell when it’s close to collapse. You’ll have to jump before that and report that Varandal has probably been destroyed.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” Geary sat and gazed at the display after the image of Howitzer’s captain vanished, thinking of everything that could go wrong. “Tanya, what should the battle cruisers’ fuel-cell reserves be at when we meet the Syndics?”
“Roughly fifteen percent, sir, more or less depending on what the Syndics do.”
“How many fuel cells does the fleet use in a typical engagement?”
Desjani spread her hands. “One of your typical engagements or one of the engagements before you assumed command, sir?”
“Mine.”
“You don’t have a typical engagement, sir.” She smiled encouragingly. “We can do it with fifteen percent.”
“If faith were fuel cells, Captain Desjani, you could power this entire fleet.”
“I’m not the only one with faith, Captain Geary.” Her eyes indicated the watch-standers on the bridge, who were calmly or excitedly discussing events. None of them betrayed dread or uncertainty. “They don’t fear the outcome here.”
About five hours later Geary watched his display. In a window there, Captain Jane Geary was acknowledging her orders, her posture and voice stiff, her eyes blazing. She had a haggard appearance, obviously worn by the extended battle that had been fought here before the Alliance fleet arrived. He’d known that because of the century he’d spent in survival sleep, Jane Geary had aged more years than he despite being his grandniece, but it was still odd to see her a bit older than he, her great-uncle. “This is Captain Jane Geary, acknowledging orders from the acting fleet commander. Understand we are to fight to the death to prevent the Syndics from destroying the hypernet gate. Geary out.”
She avoided saying his name, but she wasn’t disputing his authority. For a moment Geary felt a twinge of resentment that Jane Geary hadn’t saluted, then recalled that no one outside of the fleet would use a gesture that he had reintroduced to the fleet. Her omission hadn’t been an insult. Jane Geary had clearly understood the orders to stop the Syndics at all costs. Had she also understood that she had to keep her task force from being destroyed for as long as possible consistent with that?
“Are you all right, sir?” Desjani asked casually.
“I’m just wishing my family reunions could take place under less stressful circumstances. Wait. The Syndics are reacting.” Two and a half hours ago, the Syndic reserve flotilla had altered course, angling down and over toward the hypernet gate. Geary ran the courses out, seeing that the Syndics would reach the gate before his battle cruisers could. “It’s up to Jane Geary. Can she slow them down?”
“Let’s hope so.”
The remaining defenders in the Dreadnaught task force had fallen back before the Syndics, maintaining their distance as the enemy headed for them and the hypernet gate. Geary watched as the retreat continued for almost half an hour, wondering what Jane Geary would do. The answer came as the display reported mine strikes against ships of the Syndic reserve flotilla. “Nice,”
Desjani approved. “They waited until the Syndics were fixed on a course pursuing them, then laid mines in their wake. Look. That Syndic battle cruiser took three hits.”
“They lost one of their heavy cruisers, too,” Geary noted. None of the other Syndic warships seemed crippled, but even that small blow helped even the odds a bit.
But the Syndics kept coming, until fifteen minutes later another flurry of mine strikes took out two HuKs and damaged several other ships. “How many mines has she got?” Desjani wondered.
“The Syndics are probably asking themselves the same question.”
This time the Syndic reserve flotilla didn’t hold course, instead accelerating and climbing to alter its intercept of the Dreadnaught task force. But the Alliance ships responded by coming around and dodging to one side, putting the Syndics into another stern chase, this time at an angle away from the hypernet gate. “She’s trying to draw them off,” Desjani noted approvingly. “She is a Geary.”
But the entire Syndic reserve flotilla didn’t pursue. Instead, the Syndic box split, with a half dozen battleships, two battle cruisers, and a bevy of escorts wearing around to go after Dreadnaught while the rest of the Syndics continued toward the hypernet gate.
“What’s she—?” Before Geary could finish the question, Dreadnaught, Dependable, Intemperate, and their escorts had come around again, charging at the Syndic warships pursuing them. The odds were still far too bad, though. He waited with a sick feeling, knowing that whatever had happened had taken place two hours ago.
Then the two groups of warships were diverging again, with no losses visible on either side. “She avoided them. They expected her to charge straight at them and instead she dodged enough to one side to avoid any hits on her force.” Desjani was watching the display with an intrigued look. “Sir, Dreadnaught is deliberately avoiding the Syndics. She’s figured out that as long as her warships are anywhere near that hypernet gate, the Syndics can’t send the heavy cruisers to collapse it while the rest of them run, because Dreadnaught and her companions could finish off the heavy cruisers easily.”
“Some of the Syndics would have to agree to a suicide mission,” Geary agreed. “This isn’t like at Lakota. Those ships know what will happen when they drop that gate. Could the Syndic reserve flotilla commander convince enough ships to stay near it anyway to protect against the Dreadnaught task force?”
“I doubt it. A small group of Special Forces commandos on suicide missions are one thing, but ships’ crews? That’s not in the job description.”
He called down to Lieutenant Iger. “I need to know your assessment of whether or not Syndic ships would knowingly undertake a suicide mission.”
Iger shook his head. “Not typically, sir. Fighting to the death, yes. But Syndic ships usually are not known to conduct suicide missions.” He paused. “There’s something that may bear on this, sir. The Syndic prisoner aboard Dauntless has been receiving medical care. The doctors tell us she’s traumatized by witnessing the destruction of Kalixa Star System and needs sedation to sleep.”
“I’m not too surprised to hear that, Lieutenant,” Geary said, “but how does that bear on the current situation?”
“Sir, remember that she told us that the Syndic CEOs in the reserve flotilla ordered her to send them copies of her cruiser’s records of that event. That means Syndic officers in the reserve flotilla, some of them anyway, have seen the events at Kalixa that had such a strong impact on our prisoner.”
“I see.” If viewing the relatively less horrible scenes at Lakota had created revulsion in his own officers, what effect would viewing something worse have on the Syndics? “I assume the reserve flotilla CEOs are keeping those records under wraps, though.”