After detaching the two battle cruisers, Geary pondered his display a moment longer. It was probably a good time, having badly blunted the planned ambush of his forces, to finally give a call to whoever was running Batara. “I need a broadcast message aimed at the primary inhabited world.”
The comms watch made a few taps on her display. “You’re ready, Admiral.”
“Thank you.” He paused to think, then touched the control. “To the current rulers of Batara, this is Admiral Geary of the Alliance fleet. My ships have been attacked without warning by hostile warships operating freely in your star system. I require an immediate message from you, establishing your status as an independent star system or one subject to an external government and explaining the status of all non-Alliance warships in this star system. I will take any necessary actions to defend the ships under my control and under the protection of the Alliance. We are escorting back to your primary inhabited world refugee ships full of people from this star system. They will be landed on that planet, as will a regiment of Alliance ground forces to ensure nothing disrupts the return of your people to your world. Any attempts to interfere with our operation will be met with the full force at my disposal. Any attacks on Alliance military personnel or civilians under the protection of the Alliance will be met with the full force at my disposal. I await your reply and your explanations. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”
“Tanya would approve,” Duellos commented.
“Tanya would already be urging me to bombard the hell out of this star system as well as Tiyannak.”
“And she would be complaining mightily about that thing crowded into my shuttle dock. Speak of the devil, here is Lieutenant Night.”
“Night Witch,” Lieutenant Popova corrected, but her smile was serious. “Admiral, I came to the bridge because there aren’t any automated internal links to give you the status of my warbird. It didn’t take any damage. Is there anything I can do?”
Duellos, who had been looking ill-tempered again as he went over the damage to his ship, gave Popova a wry smile in response to the sincere offer. “Not unless you want to take the FAC out and take Inspire in tow.”
“You’re already moving pretty fast, sir. My warbird could match you, but she’d burn her fuel out in no time, and then you’d be towing me.”
“Save it for when we get to that planet,” Geary told the aerospace officer. “Our shuttles and the ground forces are probably going to need all of the deterrence your warbirds can provide, and maybe the fire support as well.”
“Admiral, the heavy cruisers have come about and are accelerating parallel to our course,” the operations watch reported.
Geary checked his display. “They’re not paralleling us. They’re headed for the battleship’s escape pods.”
“Not if Formidable and Implacable can help it,” Duellos said. The two battle cruisers were accelerating and adjusting their own courses to meet the heavy cruisers near the cloud of escape pods.
But the enemy ships veered off again when they saw the Alliance warships approaching. Geary hesitated, one hand poised over his comm controls, waiting to see what Captain Savik would do. But his fears proved unfounded as Savik brought the battle cruisers around to hang in orbit a good light-minute short of the escape pods. The heavy cruisers checked their own velocity, matching orbits, so that Alliance battle cruisers, escape pods, and enemy heavy cruisers all hung in space unmoving relative to each other, the escape pods occupying a perilous no-man’s-land between the two groups of warships.
“The Ninth Destroyer Squadron is on its way to the escape pods,” the operations watch said. “Admiral, they’re at point one five light speed, so they should reach the pods in an hour and a half.”
“Very well.” Geary studied the movement of the destroyers, worrying about their fuel status. “If this high-speed maneuvering keeps up, we’ll have to transfer fuel cells from the battle cruisers to the destroyers to keep them from running too low.”
“What we have won’t go far spread among that many destroyers,” Duellos cautioned. “What’s this?” he asked as another alert sounded.
Two light cruisers had appeared from behind the super-Earth planet, swinging around one side and heading for the refugee ships. “They jumped out early,” Geary said. “They must have received orders to move up their attack.”
“Anything sent from the battleship would have reached them at about the right time for us to see them moving now,” Duellos agreed. “Let’s see what they do when they see that the battleship isn’t with them anymore.”
After an hour spent watching for reactions, the answer was clear. “All enemy ships have seen the destruction of the battleship by now,” the operations watch-stander said, “and none have altered their vectors. Both groups of light cruisers are still on an intercept with the refugee ships.”
“And the heavy cruisers are still hanging around near the escape pods,” Duellos added. “These may not technically still be Syndics, but they’re still fighting like Syndics.”
Geary nodded in reply. Despite what propaganda said, few in the Alliance military doubted the courage of the men and women fighting for the Syndics. Alliance fighters were baffled by the willingness of Syndic combatants to die for a system that was so obviously wrong, but they had learned through bitter experience that their enemy was tough and determined. But the Syndics were also subject to rigid discipline. They obeyed orders, to the letter, or else. “How are repairs coming on your main propulsion and maneuvering?”
“They’re coming. Inspire is almost back to full maneuvering capability, but the two main propulsion units that are still off-line are very badly damaged. My engineers can’t give me an estimated time to repair on them.”
Inspire wouldn’t be able to rejoin the escorts around the refugee ships before the enemy Flotilla One reached them. It would be up to Commander Pajari to keep those light cruisers and HuKs from reaching any of the helpless freighters.
Half an hour until that enemy flotilla closed on the refugee ships and their escorts, and half an hour until Destroyer Squadron Nine reached the escape pods and started hauling in prisoners. “It’s time I talked to the people in this star system. Everyone. This time I want a broadcast blanketing all comm frequencies and directed to all points in the star system.”
“Yes, Admiral,” the comms watch acknowledged. “Wait one, sir. All right. You’ve got it, Admiral.”
Geary straightened in his seat, made sure his uniform looked as good as it could, then touched the control. “To the people of Batara Star System and all ships in Batara Star System, this is Admiral Geary of the Alliance fleet. We are here for one purpose only, to return to this star system the citizens of Batara who have been stranded in Alliance space. Once we drop them off, we will not remain here. The Alliance has no designs on this star system and no interest in dictating to the people of Batara. However, we have been subjected to unprovoked attacks by warships of unknown allegiance. We have responded to those attacks and will continue to do so, taking all necessary steps to eliminate any threats to us or to the people of Batara. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”
“I’m curious,” Duellos said. “Why didn’t you tell them outright that we were on a humanitarian mission?”
“Because of something else I learned not long ago from talking to former Syndics. To them, ‘humanitarian’ means ‘scam.’ It means someone is lying about their motives and their objectives, and is simply using the word to describe a scheme for personal profit. If I had said we were on a humanitarian mission, it would have sounded to them like I was admitting that I was actually out to cheat them.”