Courageous

TEN

“It must be the main Syndic fleet,” Desjani observed, her body tense. “Their primary strike force. The Syndics in this system couldn’t have sent for reinforcements and had them show up this quickly, so they must have been headed here for some other reason.”

“Lucky us,” Geary muttered. The hypernet gate was almost five light-hours away now, so that Syndic flotilla they were just now seeing had arrived five hours ago. But the Syndics in that new strike force had seen the Alliance fleet the moment they arrived, and had already had five hours to size up the situation and make plans. “We need to wipe out this flotilla we’re engaged with. Then we can—”

“Syndic ships are turning away,” a watch-stander called in a disappointed voice.

“Son of a bitch.” There wasn’t any doubt. Instead of curving back in for another firing pass, the Syndics they’d been fighting were continuing outward, accelerating past point one light to open the distance from the Alliance fleet even faster. Instead of closing on the Alliance fleet, the Syndics were now heading in another direction. “They’re breaking contact.”

Along with light from the hypernet gate had come orders for the Syndic ships they were engaged with. Geary was certain of it as he watched the Syndic flotilla accelerating away.

“Cowards,” Desjani ground out, then shook her head. “No. They’ve been ordered to wait until that other big force gets close enough to engage us.”

“Right.” Geary took a look at the geometry of the Alliance and the Syndic forces, then at his fleet’s fuel status. “We don’t have enough fuel cells to catch them without going to critically low levels.”

“Jump to Branwyn!” Rione suddenly cried, as if unable to understand why someone else hadn’t already said that. “Proceed onward to the jump point and jump to Branwyn! We’ve inflicted more losses on the Syndics than they have on us, so there’s no dishonor in leaving the battlefield now!”

Desjani just shook her head again.

Geary looked back at Rione. “We can’t. That Syndic force that is breaking contact with us is going to stay close enough to come charging in if we head for that jump point. We have to slow down a lot to get past the minefield they laid and to the jump point. They’ll wait until we’re nearly at a dead stop to get around those mines, and then they’ll hit us.”

“We’d be easy targets,” Desjani added in a tight voice.

“We can’t outmaneuver them?” Rione demanded.

This time Geary shook his head. “They don’t have auxiliaries with them slowing them down, and they can leave their damaged ships behind when they come at us, knowing that we can’t go after them. Even if we didn’t have the auxiliaries to worry about, we’d still have to keep our damaged ships with us.” He pointed at the display. “The Syndics we were fighting will keep us from using the jump point for Branwyn or hurt us very badly if we try to use it. Meanwhile, the big new Syndic flotilla will head for us, knowing we can’t escape through the nearest jump point without taking serious losses. When the newest force gets close enough, it and the one we were just fighting will hit us together.”

Desjani nodded, her face grim.

“And you’re just going to wait around for this?” Rione asked, incredulous.

“Not if I can help it.” He sat down, trying to think. One thing was obvious, and that was he had to settle the fleet on a new course. “All ships, steady course up two zero degrees, starboard one zero degrees time four three.”

Now what? Badly outnumbered, and things wouldn’t be getting better. Maybe, maybe if he pulled off something absolutely brilliant, he could win here. But there was no way of doing so without losing the vast majority of his own ships. Any Alliance ships surviving after that would have absolutely no chance of reaching Alliance space and would be lost as well. A victory here would be purchased only with the sacrifice of his own fleet and wouldn’t accomplish anything but stalemating the war again. The Syndics and the Alliance would be forced to hold off attacking each other for a while as they rebuilt their fleets; then they’d both go at it once more, continuing the apparently endless war. Perhaps until both the Syndicate Worlds government and the Alliance government collapsed and human-occupied space descended into heavily armed anarchy.

Even if I managed a total victory—and what are the odds of that when the enemy outnumbers us this badly?—against odds like that, my best efforts might just delay the inevitable and see the Syndics destroy this fleet while retaining enough strength themselves to finally go against the weak forces defending Alliance home space.

Desjani was chewing her lower lip, her expression determined. She’d do whatever Geary ordered, certain that whatever it was would produce a victory. Geary glanced around the bridge of Dauntless and saw variations of the same fear on every watch-stander, along with the same courage that would allow those officers and sailors to charge into battle despite that fear. These sailors would die if Geary ordered it, no doubt of that, fighting their hardest to achieve victory despite the odds.

But he’d already seen what that kind of attitude could produce. Paladin had possessed the same willingness to fight and die, and the end result had been death. He couldn’t ask these sailors to die just because they were willing to follow his orders to do that. There had to be a reasonable hope that those deaths would accomplish something.

Okay. Options. Take out this Syndic formation before the newest one got here, then escape to Branwyn. Couldn’t work unless the commander of the Syndic force they’d been fighting was an absolute idiot, and he or she didn’t seem to be one. Besides, they’d clearly been ordered not to engage Geary unless the Alliance fleet tried to escape before the newest force got here.

Take out the newest Syndic force? Charge it and hope clever tactics could compensate for enemy superiority? That was a slim reed to cling to, especially since the Syndic force they’d already fought would charge right after them, and as he’d told Rione, could out-accelerate the Alliance fleet. He’d still end up facing both Syndic forces at once, and with them operating in two big formations like that, they’d probably be able to wipe out his auxiliaries, even if Geary managed to avoid the destruction of the rest of the fleet.

Just run like hell? Where? Aside from the fact that many of his captains would balk at fleeing from an enemy even under these circumstances, there were also the problems that he couldn’t out-accelerate the Syndic flotillas, and the jump point for T’negu would just take this fleet into a maze of mines, with the Syndic forces here coming right behind. Running toward open space might keep the Syndics from catching them but would be slow suicide as the ships all ran out of fuel cells far from any star.

There was always the jump point back to Ixion, but the Syndic force they’d left there would surely be coming out of that at any time and—Okay. There’s an option. Maybe not the sort of option that Black Jack would choose, but I’m not Black Jack.

So, a plan to run for the only possible safe way out of this star system, without making it obvious that he was running. Fortunately, for once the expected arrival of more enemy reinforcements offered him a way to do that and conceal his intentions for as long as possible from not only the enemy but also his own fleet.

“We need time, and we need to confront these Syndic forces individually,” Geary announced, suddenly aware of how silent it was on the bridge of Dauntless as everyone waited to hear him speak. “The only way to do that with the ones we were fighting is to trick them into going after us. We can do that and engage the next wave of Syndic reinforcements into this system.”

He pointed at the display. “We’re going back to—toward the jump point for Ixion. At any time we expect the Syndic force we left at Ixion to come into this star system using that jump point. If we’re close enough when they do, we can overwhelm them.” Only four battleships and four battle cruisers had been in that force. “This Syndic flotilla we’ve been fighting will have to come to the rescue of that force, which will give us a chance to bloody it again.”

“That still leaves the biggest Syndic flotilla,” Rione objected.

“Yes, it does. We’ll have to see how it reacts and hit it however we can.” Don’t lie to them. Lay the groundwork for escaping this star system. “We can’t fight all of these Syndic formations at once. We need to hit them individually.”

Captain Desjani studied the display herself for a moment, then smiled. “We’re not retreating.”

“No, Captain,” Geary replied with all of the confidence he could fake. “We’re changing the direction of our attack.”

He repeated the phrase to a hastily gathered conference of fleet commanding officers about ten minutes later as the Alliance fleet lined up on a course back to the jump point for Ixion. “We’re changing the direction of our attack.”

A long silence followed, born partly of time needed for his commanding officers to absorb the new plan and partly of the time required for light itself to carry the information between the different formations of the fleet. “We don’t know the other Syndic force is going to exit that jump point,” Captain Cresida argued. Loyal as she was to him, she wanted to fight the Syndics.

“I’m hoping it will, and I think we have good reason to believe it will.” Plausible reason, anyway. “We need to force Syndic Flotilla Bravo to voluntarily reengage with us, because we can’t run them down, given the state of our fuel cell reserves.” A number of officers turned and glared toward the commanders of the auxiliaries, as if this were somehow their fault. “If we force a fight with the Syndic flotilla coming from Ixion, we’ll have it badly outnumbered, and Syndic Flotilla Bravo will have to come to its assistance or we’ll be able to wipe it out.”

Geary forced a confident smile. “Of course, we do intend wiping out the flotilla from Ixion, then turning and hitting Syndic Flotilla Bravo as it tries to save its comrades.”

Tulev nodded, even more stolid than usual. “We must defeat these Syndic flotillas in detail, one by one, separately. If they combine or get close enough to coordinate their attacks, we’ll be in a very difficult position.”

“Now isn’t the time for timidity,” Captain Casia objected. “If we turn and chase the Syndic flotilla we’ve already fought, we can finish them off and then engage the rest.”

“They’ll run us out of fuel cells, and then we can drift until blown apart by the Syndics,” Duellos stated, anger showing. “It’s called physics. Run the data yourself. You’ve just lost a battleship from your division because an officer thought being bold was the same as being smart. Didn’t you learn anything from the loss of Paladin?”

“This fleet fights!” another officer insisted. “We don’t run!”

“Tactical repositioning is not running!” Commander Gaes insisted. “We’re in Lakota! We attacked a strong Syndic star system. How can you call that running?”

“We should rethink that attack,” Commander Yin argued abruptly.

Geary gave Yin a questioning look, surprised that she’d drawn attention again after being relatively quiet at recent conferences. But then Captain Midea had been dominating the bad officer side of discussions in the last few conferences as she spun increasingly out of control. If only he’d recognized what she was doing, the increasing lack of discretion, and found cause to relieve Midea of command before the last battle. But he couldn’t have done that if everyone else had seen it simply as Geary’s attempt to silence someone saying something he didn’t want to hear. So now he spoke firmly but calmly to Yin. “Explain that, please.”

Yin flicked her eyes around nervously. “It’s obvious that the fleet’s movements are constrained by some of the ships. Some can’t move as fast as the others, and that limits our ability to fight.” True enough, but Geary waited, not trusting the amount of tension he saw in Commander Yin. “Some of the ships are slower by design, the auxiliaries. Others are temporarily slower due to battle damage, like my own Orion.”

A lot of officers were giving Yin narrow-eyed looks now, wondering where this was going. Yin gulped but forged on, speaking quickly. “It’s obvious. Get the slower ships to a safe place so the rest of the fleet can fight unencumbered.”

“A safe place?” Duellos asked.

“Ixion. We’re going that way, anyway. Get close to the jump point, let a formation including the damaged ships and the auxiliaries jump toward Ixion, and the rest of the fleet will be able to maneuver and fight better.” Yin was breathing rapidly, staring down at her hands as they clasped and unclasped on the table before her.

It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable proposal, if anyone had trusted Commander Yin. Her behavior made it clear that even Yin was worried about how the other officers would see it. After a long and hostile period of quiet, Duellos spoke again, his voice deceptively light. “Remarkable. It sounded just as if Captain Numos were speaking just now. The voice was Commander Yin’s, but the advice and the words seem those of Captain Numos. Odd, isn’t it?”

Yin flushed. “Captain Numos is an experienced officer and the veteran of many battles.”

“Which he survived by running from,” Captain Cresida snarled. “That’s exactly what he wanted to do at the Syndic home system, too! Every ship for itself!”

Voices erupted all around the table, some shouting at Yin, some at Cresida. Geary searched his controls and punched the command override, quieting all the noise instantly. The ability to shut everyone up at times like this was about the only thing about being fleet commander that he liked. “Everyone listen. This kind of debate isn’t doing us any good. Our enemies are the Syndics. Captain Cresida, it’s true that Captain Numos has been charged with abandoning his responsibilities in the face of the enemy, but he has not yet been convicted of that.”

Cresida looked unhappy but nodded. “I apologize for my remark about a fellow officer, sir.”

“Thank you. Now, Commander Yin, Captain Numos is supposed to have only enough human contact to meet the requirements for humane treatment. He is not supposed to be giving advice on the running of your ship or of this fleet. Are you in fact consulting with him on those matters?”

Yin’s eyes were everywhere but on Geary’s. “No. No, sir.”

If he could only contrive a way to get Commander Yin down to the interrogation room in the intelligence section on Dauntless and see how the sensors there evaluated answers like that. But then Geary was already certain Yin was lying. Duellos was right—the words and the proposed course of action sounded very much like Captain Numos. Numos would have presented the words with a superior sneer rather than obvious anxiety as Commander Yin had, but then Geary suspected that Numos had a lot more experience with lying to his own advantage.

If Geary had needed any confirmation that Numos was still working against him despite being relieved of command of Orion and arrested, he now had it.

Duellos spoke in a professionally detached tone. “I’d recommend against doing as Commander Yin proposed. How could we be certain we’d be able to rejoin with the damaged ships and auxiliaries? That force would be well enough off, since they would have all the supply capability in the fleet to themselves and would even be capable of reaching Alliance home space with those supplies, though I am of course speaking purely theoretically, since I know Commander Yin would never consider abandoning the rest of the fleet. Though of course the rest of the fleet would be fighting to the death here, and there probably wouldn’t be many Syndic forces able to mount a rapid pursuit of the ships that had gone ahead to Ixion. But that is, as I said, purely a matter of theory and not something I would think any fleet officer would consider doing.”

Yin was pale as death now, staring at Duellos. His emphasis on her name had clearly conveyed the idea that another officer with that force might try to abandon the fleet. Numos remained under arrest on Orion, but if Orion were detached from the rest of the fleet, how long would he remain confined?

And despite requiring Cresida to apologize, Geary knew damned well that Numos would run like a rabbit if he had command of that formation and the auxiliaries and their supplies with him.

Nobody was saying anything. Rione gave Geary an impatient look and jerked her head as if to remind him that there was a fleet conference going on.

Geary studied the expressions around the table, relieved to be finding little apparent support for Commander Yin’s proposal. “Thank you, Commander,” he stated flatly. “I don’t think it would be wise to adopt your proposal. This fleet will remain together and return to Alliance space together.” He saw instantly on the faces of the others that it had been the right thing to say. “I know you are all inspired by the sacrifices of Renown and Paladin. Let’s take out plenty of more Syndic ships in the names of those brave warships.” He felt like a hypocrite praising Paladin, but her crew had died bravely enough. They shouldn’t suffer in anyone’s estimation because their captain had failed them. “But let us also learn from the example of Paladin. Hold together, and we can destroy the Syndics. Fail to do that, and they can destroy us.”

No one seemed ready to debate that point with the images of the death of Paladin still vivid in their minds, but Captain Armus of the battleship Colossus frowned at the display as if still thinking. “Captain Geary, that new Syndic strike force, the one that outnumbers us, can intercept us prior to our reaching the jump exit for Ixion.”

“That’s true, if we hold the same course and speed. We’re going to try to throw off any attempted Syndic intercept.” He indicated the display. “They’re five light-hours away from us, so they won’t even know we’re headed for that jump point for another five hours. We’ll make some minor adjustments on the way to the jump point, just enough to confuse a Syndic intercept that’s reacting hours later.”

Armus nodded reluctantly. “What do we do if that big new flotilla does manage to intercept us? Especially if Syndic Flotilla Bravo remains intact and positioned to also engage us?”

Everyone looked at Geary, waiting for his answer to a worst-case scenario. He couldn’t really present a detailed answer, not knowing how the Syndics would be positioned, what their formations would be, a hundred big and little details that would make all the difference in his response. But it occurred to him that there was one thing he could say. “What do we do? We fight like hell, Captain, and make them sorry they caught up with us.”

No one else spoke, so Geary nodded politely. “That’s all. Captain Casia, Captain Duellos, please remain for a moment.” The images of the other officers disappeared quickly, leaving Casia and Duellos giving each other challenging looks across the table. Desjani also remained, but retreated outside the range of the conference software to give Geary privacy with the other two officers. Rione just sat and watched. “Captain Casia,” Geary stated formally, “my regrets for the loss of Paladin from your division.” Casia, who looked as if he wanted to accuse Geary of being at fault in what happened to Paladin, nodded abruptly. “That’s all.”

Duellos sighed after Casia had gone. “He’s probably trying to decide if getting rid of a loose cannon like Midea was worth losing Paladin.”

“Probably. My regrets for the loss of Renown.”

“Thank you.” Duellos shook his head. “It often comes down to luck, good or bad, doesn’t it? I liked Renown, liked her commanding officer, liked her crew. It’ll be a long time before I stop expecting to see them in my formation.” He sighed. “Most of the crew got off, though. That’s something.” Duellos saluted. “Let’s hope it doesn’t get worse.”

“That’s what I’m praying for.” Geary returned the salute, and Duellos left.

Desjani came back up to Geary after Duellos had vanished, giving Rione a slightly apologetic look as the other woman remained seated, watching her. “Sir, I wanted to say … I could see how hard it must have been watching Renown. After Grendel.”

Geary nodded. Of course Desjani had understood. “Yeah. It brought back some bad memories.” He paused, letting them come clearly again. The battle had been only a few months ago for him, a century old for Desjani and Rione and the others in this fleet. “I had to give that same order. Nonessential personnel to the escape pods. It’s a hard order to give. My executive officer wouldn’t go. She said she was essential.”

He could see her so easily, the memories so recent in his mind. Lieutenant Commander Decala. A good officer, refusing to leave her post, her eyes determined and tormented. “I told her to go. Ordered her directly, personally. She wouldn’t go.” He took a long, deep breath, feeling it all again. “I told her that she’d be needed. That the Alliance would need good officers to defend itself from the Syndics, to strike back in response to the surprise attack. I told her that her duty required her to leave. She finally did.”

Desjani nodded, her face solemn. “Do you know what became of her?”

“Yes. A month ago I finally got up the nerve to look her up in the Official Casualty Records.” Funny how hard it had been to type in her name, wondering and dreading what had become of Lieutenant Commander Decala and all the other members of his old crew who had survived his last stand. “She died five years after Grendel when her ship was destroyed during an Alliance assault on a Syndic star system.” Ninety-five years ago, while Geary drifted in survival sleep.

Desjani bowed her head. “My condolences, sir. She has surely rested with her ancestors in honor since that time.”

“I like to think so.” Geary composed himself. “Thanks for asking, Tanya. It’s one of those things I have to face sooner or later.”

She nodded, saluted, and left.

Rione finally stood and walked over to Geary, seeming uncharacteristically subdued. “There are things I will never be able to adequately understand,” she stated quietly.

“There are memories no one should have to have,” Geary replied. “But that’s war for you.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “I have a few more of those memories now, so I know exactly what you mean.

Tell me the truth, John Geary. Do you think this fleet can still make it out of this star system?”

“I don’t know. On my honor, Victoria, I just don’t know. But we have to try.”

It had been about seven days from the jump point where they’d arrived to the vicinity of the jump point for Branwyn. Now they were heading back the other way, the Alliance fleet’s path arcing through Lakota again. Geary had deliberately first lined the fleet up on a course headed for the jump point for Seruta, holding that course for an hour to hopefully get the newest and biggest Syndic flotilla charging in that direction. Then he brought the fleet around, aiming for the vicinity of the jump point for Ixion.

As he had feared, Syndic Formation Bravo had taken up position about twenty light-minutes astern of the Alliance fleet. Close enough to watch and pounce if necessary, far enough off that the Syndic flotilla could accelerate away if the Alliance ships turned to try to bring it to battle.

The only good thing about the current situation was that at least he was regaining a little combat strength for once instead of just having it slowly whittled away. Warrior, Orion, and Majestic had finally completed enough repairs to regain a level of combat capability that would let them serve as escorts for the auxiliaries if necessary. Entrusting the fates of the invaluable auxiliaries to three ships with the shaky records of those battleships would be a major leap of faith, but the spirit of their crews needed to be fixed as badly as the ships themselves had.

By the end of the first day it was clear enough that Syndic Flotilla Delta, the massive strike force that had arrived through the hypernet gate, was indeed coming after the Alliance fleet full-bore. “Point one five light,” Desjani remarked. “Edging up toward point two light.”

Normally there would be a bright side to even that bad news. At that velocity, relativistic distortion easily created minor errors in how a ship’s sensors viewed the outside universe. Across the huge distances that Syndic Flotilla Delta was covering, even a tiny error could produce a big difference. Unfortunately in this case, Flotilla Bravo hanging just astern of the Alliance fleet and matching its velocity of point one light could provide accurate information to Flotilla Delta.

“They’ll definitely get to us before we reach the jump point for Ixion,” Desjani continued. “It’s a long haul, but they’re coming on hard, and that Flotilla Bravo is letting them know when we try to fool them at long distance.”

“They’ll intercept us only a couple of hours before the jump point,” Geary noted. He didn’t add what they both knew, that those could be a very long couple of hours.

“And that’s if we and everyone else continues on our current tracks. When we engage the Syndics coming out of the Ixion jump point, it will throw all of these projections off.” Desjani leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment. “Sir, it may not be wise to engage Flotilla Delta, even though it doesn’t look like we’ll have an option.”

That was a change, Desjani counseling caution. “You think so?” Geary asked, wondering what her reasoning was.

“We’re not in the best position for a fight with a force that big,” Desjani explained. “I’m sure you’ve seen that already, but it took me longer. If we could eliminate Flotilla Bravo as a threat before Flotilla Delta intercepts us, it will make a big difference, but unless that flotilla from Ixion comes in just right, I don’t see that happening.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“I knew it.” Desjani nodded firmly and opened her eyes again, gazing at him. “We need to fight these Syndics on our terms. You’ve said that many times. Seeing Paladin die a day ago … well, suddenly it seemed I was seeing fleets and fleets of Alliance warships doing the same thing for decade after decade, throwing away themselves and their crews. I mean, it’s honorable and it’s brave, but it hasn’t been accomplishing much, has it?”

“No.” Geary twisted his mouth. “Sometimes the braver course of action is to avoid a fight.”

“Because others will accuse you of being scared?” Desjani’s face hardened. “Yes. But then I’ve been accused of other things lately. We’re going to jump for Ixion as soon as we can, right, sir?”

“Yeah. If I can get there without fighting Flotilla Delta, I’m going to do it.”

“Good.” Having shocked Geary by endorsing discretion in battle, Desjani now grinned. “We’ll kill more of them if we fight them when and where we want to.”

As bottom lines went, it had the virtues of simplicity and truth. “Right.”

“How about Seruta?” Rione asked, her eyes on the star display in Geary’s stateroom. “If we dodge that way—”

Geary shook his head, and she stopped speaking. “The biggest problem with that is that the jump point for Seruta is closer to Syndic Flotilla Delta. They’d intercept us earlier, and we’d have a longer fight to get through to the jump point.” He gazed at the star. “Lesser but still significant problems are that we don’t know what the Syndics have at Seruta, and the captured star system guides we have say Seruta is a very old and very poor system. No planets at all, just thin clouds of asteroids orbiting a dying red star, and not much in the way of good metals in the asteroids. All the Syndics ever had there was an emergency station that was shut down a long time back. We might find some nasty Syndic surprises at Seruta, and we know we wouldn’t find any of the resources we need there.”

Rione slumped back, frowning. “We just keep heading for the jump point for Ixion? Even knowing that the Syndics will catch us before we reach it?”

“I’ll try some maneuvers to keep them from closing with us.”

“Try?” She shook her head. “A very, very weak hope, John Geary. How did we end up stuck like this?”

“Exceptionally bad luck, for one thing. If Flotilla Delta hadn’t shown up, we could have finished eliminating Flotilla Bravo as a threat, then left for Branwyn.” Geary stared into the depths of the star display. “And bad judgment. My bad judgment. I made the decision to come to Lakota, and it was a very bad decision.”

“Was it? Because you didn’t know you’d encounter exceptionally bad luck?” Rione moved over and sat down beside him, leaning against his shoulder. “This isn’t something you can blame yourself for. And I should know, being an expert on blaming oneself as I am.”

“It doesn’t feel right to not have you chewing me out for messing up by being too aggressive,” Geary remarked.

“I’ve told you that I don’t want to be too predictable.” She sat up and made an exasperated sound. “Maybe we’re not supposed to get home. Maybe what we’ve learned is too dangerous.”

“I won’t accept that.”

“Good.” She stood up. “I need to make peace with someone, if I can. I might not have too many more days to try.”

Desjani? “Who?”

“My ancestors. I’ll see you in a while.”

“Do you mind if I walk with you?”

Rione frowned at him again. “You’re not my husband. You don’t belong in the room with me.”

“I know. I wouldn’t go that far. I want to talk to my ancestors, too.”

Rione’s face cleared. “Perhaps they’ll have some good advice.”

“If they don’t, I’ve always got you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Advice I have in plenty. Good advice is another thing, it seems.”

“You told me that I’d be stupid and insane to bring this fleet to Lakota,” Geary pointed out. “You seem to have been right about that.”

For some reason that seemed to amuse her slightly. “I think I said you were stupid and Falco was insane. Fine. Walk with me. Let the crew see their hero and his lover being pious and proper. Then, assuming I haven’t been blasted into ashes by my shamed ancestors, we can come back here and compare notes on whatever inspirations or warnings we felt.”

Geary stood up, laughing slightly. “That’s one hell of thing to base military planning on, isn’t? Signs and portents. Like we’re ancients peering up at the stars and wondering what they are.”

Rione paused on her way to the hatch and gave Geary a serious look. “The ancients thought the stars were gods, John Geary. So do we, though in a very different way. But we’re not so different from the ancients, who lived but the blink of an eye ago in the sight of this universe and spent their lives trying to understand why they were here and what they were supposed to do with the gifts of their lives. I try never to forget that.”

He nodded, wondering once again at the woman inside Victoria Rione.

Halfway to the Ixion jump point, Syndic Flotilla Bravo still hung behind them like an ancient sword poised to fall on their necks, and Syndic Flotilla Delta, cutting a curving path through Lakota Star System, would cross the track of the Alliance fleet at a point just two hours shy of the jump point. Syndic Flotilla Alpha still cruised serenely back and forth near the hypernet gate, standing sentry against a desperate and increasingly impossible lunge for the gate by the Alliance fleet. No sign of the smaller Syndic flotilla expected to be coming from Ixion.

Lacking omens or inspirations from his ancestors, Geary sat and watched the slow track of the formations across Lakota Star System. Every example he’d been able to find of a force in the position of the Alliance fleet ended the same way, and it wasn’t a good way as far as the Alliance fleet was concerned.

He tried to ignore another stress headache building between his eyes. Why had it come to this? If only he hadn’t been constantly thrown off balance and forced to change plans by the arrival of one Syndic force after another. Instead of calling the shots in this system, it seemed he’d just been reacting to a constant series of moves by the enemy.

Reacting to moves by the enemy.

The enemy was faster. Both Syndic Flotilla’s Bravo and Delta could out-accelerate Geary’s fleet and maintain higher velocities. That was a definite advantage, but slower-moving ships could turn tighter, though tighter didn’t exactly mean a small turn radius at even point zero five light. Still, he’d been kept off balance a lot. Maybe if he figured out how to keep the Syndic flotillas off balance…It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan.

The face of Commander Suram, acting commanding officer of Warrior, gazed back at Geary warily, doubtless expecting bad news. Suram had been Captain Kerestes’s former executive officer, but what was he really like? No one was sure. But Geary had to give the man a chance now. “Commander Suram, Warrior’s crew has done an amazing job of repairing battle damage. Your shield capabilities are fully restored, and half of your hell-lance batteries are operational again.”

Suram nodded. “Yes, sir. We haven’t been able to repair all of the damaged armor, though, and propulsion is still at only seventy-five percent.”

“That’s good enough to keep up with the auxiliaries. I’ve got a special assignment for Warrior, Commander Suram. I’m putting you in command of Orion and Majestic as well.”

That got a startled reaction. “Sir?”

“I need those auxiliaries protected, Commander Suram,” Geary stated with grim intensity. “If we lose them, this fleet is dead. You know that. When we mix it up with the Syndics again, those two flotillas are going to be coming at us from multiple directions. It’ll be very difficult for me to make sure that Titan, Witch, Jinn, and Goblin aren’t damaged or destroyed. I want Warrior, Orion, and Majestic to stick to those auxiliaries like you were tied to them by a short rope. I want you to physically block any Syndic fire at the auxiliaries if necessary and destroy any Syndic warships that try to get at the auxiliaries. Can you do that, Commander Suram?”

Suram’s jaw set. “Yes, sir.”

“You understand I’m giving you the most important job in this fleet. I don’t have a single major warship to spare. No minor warships to spare either, for that matter. I need to know that you’ll do whatever it takes and stick with those auxiliaries.”

“Warrior will be destroyed before those auxiliaries are harmed,” Suram stated. “We know we have something to prove,” he added in a rough voice. “Myself and the crew of Warrior. We left Polaris and Vanguard at Vidha. We won’t leave these auxiliaries, not while we have any capability left. I swear it on the honor of my ancestors.”

Geary knew that anyone he asked would tell him he was insane to trust Warrior, let alone Orion and Majestic, but his instincts told him that no other ships had as much to prove. That didn’t mean he would have given this mission to Commander Yin on Orion, of course. That really would have been insane. “If I didn’t believe you capable, I wouldn’t have given you the mission, Commander Suram. You tell your crew that. I know that Warrior can carry it out or die trying.”

Suram nodded again, then saluted. “Thank you, sir. We will regain our honor or die in the attempt.”

Geary smiled. “Do us both a favor and regain your honor without dying. I want Warrior back in the front of battle. Are you comfortable with the commanders of Orion and Majestic? Will they follow your orders?”

“Every officer and every sailor on Orion and Majestic will know their mission and the opportunity they’ve been given, sir,” Suram promised. “Thank you again, sir. Our ships will justify your trust in us.”

One day out from the jump point. He spent hours just gazing at the simulator, where a depiction of the current situation hung, the huge Syndic Flotilla Delta now arranged in what seemed a traditional Syndic box formation, though in this case the box was very shallow. The lid of the box pointed toward the Alliance fleet like a thick wall that overlapped the Alliance formation on all sides.

Syndic Formation Bravo had altered its box formation as well, making it shallow to match that of Delta and tilting it up to mimic the wall of Delta, though Bravo’s lesser numbers made for a much smaller wall. Even after getting pummeled by the Alliance fleet near the Branwyn jump point, Bravo still boasted fifteen battleships and ten battle cruisers, though. Bravo had lost a lot of smaller combatants, too, but it only looked smaller compared to the twenty-three battleships and twenty battle cruisers in Delta.

Geary was surprised that Bravo hadn’t made any lunges toward the Alliance fleet just to shake up the Alliance sailors and maybe cause the fleet to lose more ground as it dodged the feints. They’re confident again, aren’t they? They think we’re trapped, and the outcome is inevitable.

We’ll see.

One hour until Syndic Formation Delta intercepted the track of the Alliance fleet. Geary sat down on the bridge of Dauntless and nodded in acknowledgment of Desjani’s greeting. Rione sat at the back, only her eyes betraying her tension.

“Syndic Flotilla Bravo is accelerating,” the maneuvering watch reported.

“Planning to catch up with us at the same time Flotilla Delta gets here,” Desjani remarked, sounding as if she were commenting on a simulation rather than a real tactic by an overwhelming Syndic force.

“No doubt,” Geary agreed. “Let’s try to mess up their plans.” He punched his communication controls. “All units in the Alliance fleet, assume Formation Omicron; execute immediately upon receipt of this message. Station assignments are being sent to you now.”

“Formation Omicron?” Desjani asked. She fixed her eyes on her display, knowing that, as the flagship, Dauntless would be the guide for the rest of the ships to form on and wouldn’t be doing any maneuvering herself right now. “Sir? A cylinder?”

“Yes, that’s really it.” He could understand her surprise. “We’ve got two advantages. As a smaller force we can make it harder for the Syndics to employ their full numbers against us all at once. Those box formations of theirs can’t adjust quickly enough to counter that.” I hope. “And since we’re slower, we can turn this formation tighter.”

The ships of the Alliance fleet collapsed into Formation Omicron. Instead of a number of separate subformations, Omicron held every ship in the fleet in one grouping. And instead of dispersing the warships with plenty of distance between them, Omicron used minimum safe distances. The cylinder was only small by comparison to the big Syndic formations, but most of the Syndic wall formed by Flotilla Delta wouldn’t be able to engage his fleet, even if the two forces swept through each other.

Geary had also abandoned the standard practice of having the lighter escorts between the major warships and the enemy. That was what they were for, normally, but he didn’t intend to fight a normal battle. The outside of Omicron’s cylinder was made up of battleships at the front and back, the battle cruisers forming a belt in the middle between them. Inside the cylinder were the destroyers and light cruisers. Heavy cruisers blocked both ends of the cylinder, one end stiffened by the two scout battleships. Also inside it, as well protected as possible, were the damaged warships and the auxiliaries, Warrior, Orion, and Majestic in close company.

“Thirty minutes to contact with Syndic Flotilla Delta,” the combat systems watch announced. “Twenty-eight minutes to contact with Syndic Flotilla Bravo.”

The last Alliance warship slid into place in the formation, the cylinder of the fleet pointed down along the track toward the jump point for Ixion.

“The commander of Delta is going to let Bravo soften us up and take the brunt of our first volleys and then move in to finish us off and get the credit,” Desjani observed. “I always disliked commanders who did that sort of thing.”

“This one’s going to be disappointed.” I hope. Geary sat and waited, trying to judge the right moment. “All units, reduce speed to point zero seven light.”

The Syndic ships were close enough now to have seen the Alliance fleet changing formation only a few minutes after it had begun, but they’d been forced to wait until the shape of the new Alliance formation could be made out before they could make any counterchanges to their own formation. Now Geary saw the formation for Syndic Flotilla Delta compressing, the wall getting shorter and thicker so that more Syndic ships could engage the Alliance fleet at any point. But Geary’s speed reduction was causing the Syndics to rush to contact faster than they’d anticipated.

“Ten minutes to contact with Bravo. Twelve minutes to contact with Delta.”

That was close enough. Bravo, conducting a stern chase, was gaining slowly, while Delta came tearing in from the side, still at point two light. He’s going to have to brake now. “All units in the Alliance fleet, pivot formation down nine zero degrees and turn starboard seven zero degrees at time three one.” Another very complex maneuver, with ships simultaneously swinging the cylinder so it pointed down, and bringing the cylinder around onto a new course.

“Delta’s braking,” Desjani noted on the heels of Geary’s order as Dauntless swung around to push herself onto the new heading.

At their velocity, Delta had a hard time viewing the Alliance fleet well and, already committed to a hard braking maneuver, they couldn’t do much about it anyway.

Bravo, coming on behind the Alliance fleet, tried to turn to match its maneuver but swung wider, losing distance.

A blizzard of missiles and grapeshot fired by the Delta Flotilla tore through the empty space where their combat systems had predicted the Alliance fleet would be.

Delta’s thick box rushed past the place where the Alliance fleet would have been, while the vertical Alliance cylinder swung by to one side at extreme hell-lance range.

“Nice,” Desjani said approvingly, but she kept her eyes on the display, knowing that this was just the first move.

Geary had his eyes there, too. The Syndics would follow. Bravo will continue around, ready to pounce when we steady out. Delta will go up or down, I think, to simplify coordinating another joint approach. That means I need to take this fleet … there. “All units, turn starboard one nine zero degrees, time four four.”

Delta was turning upward as Bravo once again failed to match the Alliance fleet’s turn and lost yet more ground. “All units, alter course down two zero degrees time four nine. Pivot formation up seven zero degrees at time five two.”

This time the Alliance cylinder came back close to horizontal relative to the system plane and raced past far beneath Delta as Bravo began braking hard to bring its own velocity down far enough to match the turn radius of the slower Alliance ships. Geary waited until he saw Delta start another strong braking maneuver as well. “All units, turn starboard nine five degrees and accelerate to point one light at time zero two.”

As the Syndic formations brought down their speed and turned inward toward each other again, Delta from above and Bravo to one side, to try to grapple with the Alliance fleet, the Alliance ships tore away toward the Ixion jump point.

“That is the strangest engagement I ever fought,” Desjani remarked in a wondering voice.

“It’s not over,” Geary replied. “They’ll sort themselves out, accelerate again, and come after us.”

“They’ll both be in a tail chase now.” Desjani ran the maneuvering solution. “But they’ll still catch us before the jump point.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think that will work again?” Rione asked.

“Dodging?” Geary shook his head. “We did that sort of thing sometimes, in the old days, having fun and justifying it by claiming it taught us how to anticipate the movements of other formations. Maybe it did. But it won’t work next time. The Syndics will expect us to evade, and they’ve got enough ships to spread their formations wide enough to keep us from avoiding contact next time.”

Rione looked unhappy, but Desjani got it and smiled like a cat. “Spreading out formations will mean the Syndics have less firepower at any point.”

“Right. And we’re going through one of those points.” Geary gestured at the display, which the Syndics showed accelerating in pursuit again. “It looks like they’re merging Bravo and Delta. I need an estimate for the flagship’s position.”

“He should be in the center,” Desjani commented.

Geary nodded. The place of honor. The place most likely to catch the brunt of an enemy attack using the head-on tactics that had been common practice. It wasn’t the smartest way of doing business, but just like the Syndics, he was still constrained by the practice, since everyone in this fleet would be horrified if the flagship wasn’t in the center of an attack.

In the wake of the Alliance fleet, the huge combined Syndic formation spread out, thinner in all places but stretching so that the wall now reached far enough above, below, right, and left of the Alliance fleet’s track that no feasible maneuver could evade it. You want to catch us? Fine. Prepare to learn what happens when you try to close your hand on a hornet.