But that was a matter for another day. For now, what about names for the light cruisers? Iceni looked at her display in hope of inspiration. On the display, the detached flotilla still hung moving slowly against the image of this part of the star system. The projected vector for the flotilla curved toward the second planet, like the path of a bird of prey swooping down upon its victim.
A bird of prey? Hawk, Eagle, Raven? Was a Raven a bird of prey? Never mind. She liked the imagery.
That left the HuKs. What to signify with them? Something she wanted to encourage. But what? The sort of thing she had seen with Sub-Executive Kontos, standing sentry on the bridge of the battleship until relieved.
Standing sentry.
Sentry.
Sentinel. Defender. Guardian. Scout. Warrior. There were a lot of options there. And crew members who had been happy to be changed from being line workers to being called specialists would surely like the idea of their ships having similarly less generic titles.
Decision made. No bureaucracy to be consulted.
Iceni looked to Marphissa. “So, Kommodor, when do you want to be formally appointed the commanding officer of the battleship Midway?”
Marphissa’s face lit. “She will get a name?”
“Yes.” She. I guess that I’d better get used to hearing that.
“Madam President, I am honored beyond measure that—”
“Kommodor!” the operations specialist said. “Activity near the second planet!”
Iceni swiveled her gaze back to her display. An hour and a half ago, the snake-controlled warships had done something. But what?
Chapter Thirteen
“Accelerating and vectoring away from the planet,” Marphissa commented after watching for a few minutes.
“What about shuttle activity to them?” Iceni asked. “There wasn’t any alert on that before they started moving.”
“There have been a lot of shuttle runs to those units ever since they achieved orbit. The half hour before they started moving had plenty, but not an unusual amount compared to the hours before that.”
All they could do was sit and watch until the one light cruiser and two HuKs still controlled by the snakes settled out on a clear vector. The bent cone indicating possible courses kept narrowing until it formed a single curving line heading past the star and outward. “The jump point for Kukai,” the maneuvering specialist announced.
“That was their only other choice unless they wanted to go to Midway,” Marphissa noted, “but they are leaving the star system.”
“Make sure,” Iceni said, “that our detached flotilla—”
She stopped speaking as an alert sounded, and new symbols flashed on the display.
“They’ve launched bombardment projectiles,” the combat specialist said in a hushed voice.
Damn. How many projectiles did those three units have on board? Enough to devastate the second planet?
“They’re headed… outward,” the combat specialist reported, his voice reflecting bafflement.
“What?” Iceni leaned closer to her display as if that might provide more detail. “They can’t hit the battleship from where they’re firing. Not with unguided projectiles that would have to whip around the gas giant in a partial orbit before impact.”
“That is correct, Madam President, but the projectiles are heading toward the gas giant.”
Marphissa spread her hands in bafflement, eyes fixed on her own display. “How long until we can figure out what they’re aiming at?”
“Maybe half an hour, Kommodor.” The combat specialist hesitated. “They must know that trying to hit any mobile unit with kinetic rounds fired from that distance is hopeless.”
“And yet they launched them in this direction.”
“Yes, Kommodor, but there is one thing near here, one thing orbiting the gas giant, which is not a mobile unit.”
An angry sound came from Marphissa. “The mobile forces facility. But why don’t they want to preserve that intact in the expectation that they’ll control it again when the Syndicate Worlds sends new forces here?”
“Excuse me, Kommodor, but the facility isn’t intact. It was badly damaged during the fighting to control it. We don’t know how badly, but we know the main dock has been destroyed. That explosion must have torn apart most of the shipyard capabilities on the facility.”
Marphissa turned to Iceni. “The facility is no longer very useful, and the snakes know that the workers’ committee took it over. They’re sending the strongest possible message to this star system by smashing that facility. What do we do?”
“Why do we have to do anything?” Iceni asked. “The citizens on the mobile forces facility will see the projectiles coming and they’ll evacuate.”
“Yes, Madam President. The only mobile unit at the facility was destroyed in the internal fighting, and we destroyed the freighter on its way here with snake reinforcements. They’ll have to evacuate in any surviving tugs and escape pods, which are certain to be overloaded.”
Oh. Iceni judged the distances involved to reaching safety. “That will be pushing the capabilities of the pods, and probably the tugs.”
“We could detach a few of our—”
“No.” She might not want the workers’ committee and their fellow radicalized workers to suffocate in the cold dark, but that didn’t mean she wanted them spreading poison to her crews. “What about that merchant?” She pointed to her display, centering it on one of the merchant ships that had arrived since the fighting or left the second planet, crossing the star system on their way to one or the other of the two jump points that were all Kane had. Prudence might have dictated postponing any voyages, but in the Syndicate Worlds caution alone wasn’t accepted as an excuse for failure to carry out ordered tasks. Schedules must be met. As soon as the combat between the flotillas ended, merchant ships had gotten under way. One of those merchant ships was only ten light-minutes from the gas giant though already past the planet’s orbit and heading outward.
“Should I contact them?” Marphissa asked.
“No, I’ll do it.” Composing herself, Iceni tapped her controls. “Merchant ship SWCC-10735, this is President Iceni. The citizens on the mobile forces facility orbiting the fourth planet will soon be forced to evacuate. You are to alter course toward that facility, rendezvous with the tugs and escape pods from that facility, and take the citizens in them safely to the second planet before proceeding on your business. Acknowledge receipt of this message and understanding of your orders. For the people, Iceni, out.” Short and to the point. There should be no room for misunderstanding.
But a reply would take about twenty minutes. Ten minutes to get there and ten to get back.
The battleship and two heavy cruisers had finally finished swinging completely about and were slowing again under the thrust of the cruisers’ propulsion units when the reply came.
“This is Senior Ship’s Controller Hafely.” Hafely had the fixed expression characteristic of those executives who couldn’t conceive of doing anything contrary to directions. In Iceni’s experience, most executives like that couldn’t do anything without clear and detailed directions, either. “My ship is owned and operated by the Yegans Syndicate. I am under orders from my Syndicate not to deviate from my assigned transport movements except as required by authorities of the Syndicate Worlds or if threatened by Alliance raiders. I am continuing on my movements as scheduled by my Syndicate.”