These weren’t the right conditions.
Alliance destroyers were in their element against this kind of enemy, rampaging through the smaller, weaker FACs like hawks among a flock of sparrows, hell lances stabbing out as fast as they could fire to smash through the flimsy protection of the much smaller spacecraft. Light cruisers moved almost as nimbly among the destroyers, their heavier armaments taking out several small attack craft with each volley. Coming right behind the lighter escorts were the heavy cruisers, not so fast and maneuverable, but better protected and far outgunning the FACs. Against the Alliance warships, the FACs tried to focus their fire on single ships enough to overcome shields and armor, but with so many targets coming so fast, not enough hits could be scored on any one ship in time to make a difference.
The Alliance fleet formation merged with the swarm of fast attack craft at a combined velocity of almost point zero five light speed, the cloud of FACs evaporating as it merged with the warships like a flock of gnats running head-on into a massive land vehicle. Syndic small attack craft blew apart or spun away uncontrolled, with dead systems and crew. Due to sheer numbers, some of the small craft penetrated past the Alliance escorts, only to be instantly torn to pieces by the firepower of the battleships and battle cruisers.
The moment of contact and destruction of the horde of FACs happened almost too quickly for it to register on human senses, then the Alliance fleet was through the enemy and following Geary’s command to turn sharply upward, “up” being defined by humans as the direction above the plane of the star system, just as “down” was beneath the plane of the star system. Geary studied his fleet status display anxiously, aware that collisions with FACs or a lucky barrage of hits could have done significant damage to or even destroyed one of his escorts. The status reports were still updating, showing weakened shields and occasional hits on destroyers or light cruisers, when something else caught his attention. “Dungeon, return to formation immediately! Alter your track to avoid those merchant ships!”
Unlike the rest of the fleet, the lone heavy cruiser had continued onward instead of altering her course upward, and was now heading straight into the mass of Syndic merchant ships waiting silently along the path the fleet would have taken. Geary waited as seconds passed, having flashbacks to the senseless loss of a cruiser and three destroyers to a minefield at Sutrah.
Dungeon’s reply finally came, her captain sounding baffled. “We’re going to let these Syndic ships escape?”
“It’s a trap!” Geary called back immediately. “Use your head! They’re not trying to run, and there are no escape pods leaving those merchants! They had no crews embarked, just the pilots of those FACs, and they’re probably rigged as booby traps. Get your ship clear now!”
Seconds later, Dungeon finally began pulling up, her course vectors altering oh-so-slowly toward the rest of the fleet, while momentum still carried her closer to the merchants.
Desjani was watching the heavy cruiser’s progress silently, her face an emotionless mask, doubtless also remembering Sutrah.
“Ten seconds to closest-point-of-approach for Dungeon to the nearest merchant ships,” the operations watch reported.
“They’re lighting off their propulsion systems,” Desjani said an instant later. The merchants’ propulsion systems had kicked in, thrusters pushing the clumsy vessels up, aiming to try to intercept the Alliance fleet, which would pass over them. “They all lit off at about the same time. It must be automated controls with all the merchant ships slaved together. No bunch of civilians could have managed that coordinated an action.”
“Even if a bunch of civilians were willing to charge at this fleet,” Geary agreed, his eyes on the seconds counting down for Dungeon to clear the merchant ships.
Given the light-seconds separating the rest of the fleet from Dungeon and the merchant ships, they saw the explosions three seconds after they’d taken place. “The two merchant ships closest to Dungeon’s track have suffered core overloads,” the operations watch reported. “Assess that Dungeon will be within the outer limits of the danger area and may sustain damage.”
“They thought they could use your own trick against you?” Desjani complained.
“Maybe they thought someone else might be in command, or else that Admiral Geary had grown complacent,” Rione replied.
Whatever the reason, the Syndics had modified the improvised ship minefield Geary had used at Lakota. “That’s not a bad idea,” he commented, “putting their ships under automated controls to close on their targets if the targets aren’t coming to them. We need to keep an eye out for that kind of tactic happening again.”
“Even the Syndics wouldn’t throw away functioning warships that way,” Desjani said. “But from now on, I am going to be inclined to shoot first if any merchant ship tries to get close.” She frowned at her display. “Lieutenant Yuon,” Desjani called to one of the watch-standers, “those Syndic core overloads seemed much more powerful than they should have been. Find out how much the Syndics have boosted the power of those explosions and get an estimate of how they did it.” She gave Geary a warning look. “If we get within hell-lance range, we might be close enough for those things to damage some of our ships.”
“Concur. Let’s not take chances.” He had developed a hesitation to use specter missiles as the fleet’s supply dwindled during the long retreat home, but the fleet’s missile magazines had been topped off at Varandal, and missiles were clearly what was called for here. Still, merchants only had shields good enough to block radiation, no armor, no defenses, and these merchant ships were lumbering along easily predictable, smooth vectors aimed at trying to intercept the Alliance warships. It was the work of a couple of seconds to ask the fleet combat systems to assign one missile each from enough warships to engage each merchant ship with the single specter, which would be all that was needed to destroy it. But before Geary could tap the execute command, a delighted laugh from Desjani drew his attention.
“The Syndics packed the formation too tight,” she explained. “It would have been more effective if we’d run straight into them, but as it is …” Desjani laughed again and waved at her display.
The two merchant ships that had destroyed themselves with core overloads had been close enough to some of the other merchant ships for the blast effects to trigger core overloads in the other ships as well. As those merchant ships blew, they took out more of their neighbors, whose own core overloads set off even more destruction in the ships close to them.
An expanding wave of destruction was unfurling through the mass of Syndic merchant ships as the Syndic minefield obliterated itself in a flurry of fratricide. “I guess we can save our missiles,” Geary commented, then his satisfaction at watching the self-elimination of the Syndic booby trap vanished as Dungeon staggered out of the edges of the zone of destruction created by the core overloads of the first two Syndic merchant ships. Geary bit back a curse as he saw automated damage status reports coming in from Dungeon. By the time Dungeon had become aware of the explosions, it was too late to react, and the heavy cruiser had taken the brunt of the blasts on one side of her stern. Geary hit his comm controls harder than he had to. “Dungeon, I need a full damage report and estimated time of repair to your damaged propulsion units as soon as possible.” Switching circuits, he made a call to Tanuki.