Dauntless

FOUR

The star known to humanity as Corvus glowed like a tiny, bright coin against the star-dappled black of normal space as the Alliance fleet leaped out of jump. Geary, trying hard not to show how tense he was, looked down toward his armchair controls and saw his hand gripping the chair so tightly his fingers were white. He took a deep breath and stared at the display, willing it to produce the information he needed.

“No mines,” Captain Desjani reported.

Geary just nodded. If there had been a minefield laid at the jump point exit they’d have already found it the hard way. But he’d felt safe in gambling that there wouldn’t be mines here. Even when system jump drives had been the only way to get from star to star, there hadn’t been many jump points guarded by minefields because they were as much a hazard to friendly shipping jumping back into normal space as they were to enemies. Deep inside Syndic territory, or Alliance territory for that matter, resources never would’ve been wasted on deploying and maintaining minefields.

which was the only nice thing Geary could think of about being trapped so deep inside Syndic territory.

“No nearby shipping detected on initial scans,” a watch-stander reported.

Geary nodded again. The report didn’t mean much. They’d exited the jump point about a billion kilometers from Corvus, but Geary had long ago stopped thinking in terms of kilometers when it came to space navigation. Instead, he paid attention to the light-distance readout that reported they were eight and a half light-hours from the star. If the very old records they were relying on had been accurate, the main inhabited world orbiting Corvus was about 1.2 light-hours from its star. That meant whatever the fleet’s sensors were now seeing and analyzing around that world was a picture well over seven hours old.

Aside from that single habitable world, Corvus boasted only three other satellites worthy of the name planet. One was a battered rock in a slightly eccentric orbit less than a light hour from the star, another a gas giant about six light-hours out, and farthest out a frozen snowball of a world, the orbit of which had it not much more than a half light-hour away from the jump point. Which meant that frozen world was also about a half light-hour away from the Alliance fleet.

“Captain Desjani.” She turned to look at him. “It used to be routine for the Syndics to maintain defensive bases near jump points. The same sort of thing we did. I understand the Syndics have kept a lot of those bases active.”

Desjani scowled. “We always assume the old bases remain active. If a hypernet gate is built, that gets new defenses. But for stars without hypernet, Alliance policy has been that if defensive bases are to be kept in-system, then it’s not worth the cost of moving them. The Syndics seem to have followed the same policy.”

“That makes sense. Why waste money? The question is whether they’ll have bothered with maintaining a base this far inside their territory.” Geary rubbed his forehead, watching the display where a slowly expanding sphere around the fleet’s ships marked the area where something like a real-time picture could be established. The sphere still looked ridiculously small against the size of the star system they were invading. Fortunately, it would soon cover the orbit of the frozen world. “That means if they still have a base here, it’ll be there,” he added out loud.

Captain Desjani nodded. “We’ll know soon. Initial optical and full spectrum scans show installations with heat signatures, so something’s still active there, but we need more data. There’s definitely not a major naval force nearby, though. We’d be seeing some signs of that by now even if the information was time-late.”

Thank the ancestors for not-so-small blessings, Geary thought irreverently. In fact, space traffic in the system seemed light. Geary, unconsciously anticipating the sort of system jump traffic he’d been used to, instead saw no interstellar shipping passing through en route to the various jump locations. What in-system traffic had been spotted, running between the inhabited planet and what must be various off-planet mining and manufacturing sites, was confined to the plane of the system and clustered among the inner planets. Where the hell is everybody? Geary couldn’t help wondering, even though he knew that thanks to the hypernet “everybody” didn’t have to go through Corvus or systems like it anymore.

Geary tapped a communications circuit, having painstakingly learned how to use his controls during the jump to Corvus. “This is Captain Geary for Captain Duellos and Captain Tulev. You are to take the Second and Fourth Battle Cruiser Squadrons and assume positions covering the jump exit. If any Syndic forces come through there in immediate pursuit, they must be destroyed before they can get past you.”

Geary could almost hear the anticipation of one-sided slaughter in Duellos’ and Tulev’s voices as they rogered up for the order. On his scan, Geary watched the heavy combatants of the two squadrons swinging around and moving back toward the jump point. The battle cruisers were able to accelerate quickly for their size but were comparatively lightly defended since their acceleration had been purchased by adding more propulsion power at the expense of defensive-screen capability. He’d have to hold them there long enough to nail any Syndics coming through on the heels of the Alliance fleet, but not leave them isolated as the rest of the fleet moved away. Just a simple matter of timing, with seven big warships and the lives of their crews riding on Geary’s ability to get it right.

Mines. How could I have forgotten that until now? I don’t care how much Syndic shipping gets disrupted. “Captain Duellos. Have your ships lay a minefield around the jump exit, slaved to the local star so it maintains position.”

Duellos acknowledged the newest order, sounding definitely gleeful this time. The Alliance fleet had taken some heavy loses in the Syndic home system from mines laid as part of the ambush, so Geary didn’t begrudge any desire by Alliance sailors for retaliation on that count.

Another tap on a circuit to communicate with the entire fleet. “All units, with the exception of the Second and Fourth Battle Cruiser Squadrons, are to assume standard fleet-attack formation Alpha Six immediately upon receipt of this message.” The units of the fleet, jumbled by the battle in the Syndic home system and the pell-mell retreat through the jump point, hadn’t been able to reform while in jump space and now needed to resume the semblance of an orderly formation again. Geary watched on his display as the ships and squadrons slowly acknowledged an order that took a few light-minutes to reach the farthest ships, trying not to shake his head at how scattered the fleet was.

“The fleet is still proceeding in-system at point one light speed,” Desjani reminded him. “It’s going to take some of those ships quite a while to reach their assigned positions.”

“Yeah.” Geary studied the display, still essentially empty of real-time threat information. “If we slow the fleet, individual ships will have an easier time taking station. But I don’t want to risk slowing the fleet until we’ve learned more about whatever Syndic force we’re hopefully surprising here.”

“Holding back never won a battle,” Desjani stated approvingly, in the manner of someone quoting a lesson.

Geary was still mentally shaking his head at Desjani’s statement when a chime sounded to call attention to the display. He watched as the time-late data from the inhabited world scrolled by. Analysis of imagery and things like chemical by-products in the atmosphere indicated the world was still running an industrialized economy, but with signs of inactive facilities and apparently not as heavily populated as expected given the length of time humans had been settled there. That matched what he’d heard about those systems that had been bypassed by the hypernet system slowly dying on the vine. A score of objects orbited the world, seven tagged as cold and probably mothballed and two labeled as likely military installations. No military shipping was visible in the more than eight-hour-old picture.

“The installation on the fourth world is active and assessed military,” the reconnaissance watch reported. “Two minor combatants are active near the base as of forty-one minutes time-late.”

Geary jerked his head around and stared at the system display of the frozen planet. They still didn’t have anything like a real-time picture of the area near the Syndic base, but as of forty minutes ago there’d been two Syndic ships there. We arrived in system less than ten minutes ago, so they won’t see us for another half hour. By then, we’ll be a lot closer to them. “Is the identification of those Syndic ships accurate? We’re sure that’s what they are?”

Desjani frowned, probably taking the questioning of her ship’s displayed information personally. “The IDs on the ships near the base? Yes, Captain Geary. Type and Class ID is certain. Model is tentative.”

“I’ll be damned.” Desjani gave Geary a wondering look, so he pointed at the display. “We called those things nickel corvettes in my time.”

“Nickel?”

“Yeah. Like the coins. They’re useful, but they don’t last long if you need to use them. Those ships were half-obsolescent when I…” Geary let his words trail off, not sure how to refer to his apparent death in battle a century ago. “When I was last in combat,” he finally stated.

Desjani snorted in amazement. “I’ve never seen that class of ships before. I suppose those corvettes must’ve been left here because it was easier to leave them in the hands of the local Corvus authorities than it would’ve been to dispose of them.”

“Probably.” For a moment, Geary imagined himself at that Syndic base or on those ships as the Alliance fleet came pouring out of the jump point. If the age of those Syndic ships was any indication, this system didn’t even really qualify as a backwater in the war. Decades, at least, since Corvus had been involved in the Alliance–Syndicate Worlds war, aside from sending in taxes and doubtless occasional shipments of draft-age young adults. For a few more minutes or a few more hours, depending on where in the system they were, they’d still think they were a backwater. Then they’d finally begin to see the Alliance fleet arriving, ship after ship becoming visible as the light from their arrival finally reached the various Syndic watchers. And they wouldn’t believe it for a few minutes, would they? Wouldn’t believe that here was the war arriving, in sudden and overwhelming force.

The fleet communications circuit came to life. “Captain Geary, this is Commander Zeas on the Truculent. We’re within weapons range of an active radar emitter focused on the jump point.”

“This is Geary. Take it out.” He glanced at Desjani. “I know that’s just a navigational aid, but it’s probably sending contact reports to that base.”

“I concur,” she agreed. “Though the reports will be going at light speed, so they won’t get there before visual sightings of us can take place from the base.”

“Every couple of minutes helps. Is the base itself sending out any active sensor emissions?” Geary checked the display even as he asked, knowing the answer should be there somewhere.

“No, sir.” Desjani indicated the proper data fields. “Did you expect that?”

“No.” Geary almost bridled at the question, then found a moment’s amusement in it. “Even in my primitive time it was obvious that radar would take twice as long to spot something as a visual sensor would, since the radar pulse has to go and return while the light from the object only has to travel that distance once.” The difference in time was insignificant on a planet’s surface, but when the size of a battlefield was measured in light-hours it mattered a lot.

Desjani gulped visibly. “I didn’t mean any disrespect—”

“I know that. I also know I’m out of date in a lot of ways, so I’d rather you keep on assuming I don’t know something. We’re safer that way, and frankly, Captain, I trust you with knowledge of my fallibility.”

“Yes, sir.” Desjani grinned. “You already know the trust that I and my crew have in you.”

This time, Geary tried not to wince. Trying to change the topic, he nodded toward the display. “I wish this wouldn’t take so long. Too bad we can’t do faster-than-light microjumps inside star systems.”

“Yes. The waiting has always been the hardest part for me,” Desjani confessed. “We can see the enemy, we know where they are, but it’ll still be almost four and a half hours before we get close enough to that base on the fourth world to turn it into craters.”

A new voice answered her. “You could go faster.” Both Desjani and Geary turned to see that Co-President Rione had come onto the bridge of the Dauntless. Rione looked directly at Geary. “Couldn’t you?”

Geary shrugged, trying to ignore the disdainful expression he could see out of the corner of his eye on Desjani’s face. “We could. I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Rione came forward and sat in an unoccupied seat designated for observers, strapping herself in with carefully precise movements.

“Because among other things, the ships of this fleet are already averaging point one light speed. We’re in normal space and subject to the rules there. That means the faster we go, the worse we’ll run into relativistic effects.” Rione eyed him, plainly awaiting elaboration and leaving Geary wondering yet again how much she really knew and how much she was testing him. “To put it in the simplest possible terms, our perspective of everything outside of this ship gets increasingly distorted the faster we go. At point one light, we can still figure out what we’re looking at with some accuracy. As we get closer to the speed of light, it gets harder to tell where everything really is. I’m having enough trouble now figuring out where the enemy is located and where their ships are going. The last thing I need is to have to wonder where my own ships are, too.”

Rione waved at the display. “I understood these presented images that compensated for relativistic effects when necessary.”

Captain Desjani, her ship’s honor apparently at stake once more, answered. “Madam Co-President, the systems can fairly accurately compensate for relativistic effects on this ship because they know what this ship is doing. For any other ship, the systems can only estimate from what it can observe. We’d get a time-late and distorted picture of the other ship, and the resulting corrections vary in accuracy. The image we get could differ significantly from where the other ship is actually located and from what its actual course and speed vectors are at any moment.”

Any further questions from Rione were forestalled by the communications watch. “Captain Desjani, we’ve received a challenge from Syndic defense forces in-system.”

Desjani looked at Geary, of course. He frowned at the display and the time. “That was quick. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that base on the fourth planet must only now be picking up visual on the first fleet ship coming out of the jump point.”

“Agreed.” Desjani swept her gaze across the bridge. “That signal must’ve come from a Syndic source about fifteen light-minutes out from the jump point. Find it,” she ordered her watch-standers.

It only took a few moments, thanks to the fact that the fleet was spread out so much. Using the bearings from which the Syndic signal had been received by different, widely separated ships, the source was easily localized. Full-spectrum sensors focused on the spot, finally picking out a small object. “It’s tiny,” the communications watch reported. “That’s no ship. Not a crewed object, either. Assess the source of the signal to be an automated traffic management assistant.”

“Why didn’t we spot it before now?” Desjani demanded.

“It seems to have been out here a long time, ma’am. Very heavily pitted. Preliminary sweeps assessed it as most likely an ancient piece of debris drifting through the system.”

Geary, pondering how that description also matched the last century of his own existence, rubbed his chin as he studied the display. The closest ship to the object, the cruiser Ardent, was less than a light-minute away. That thing won’t be equipped with weaponry, but it might have stuff that’ll help the Syndic base track us, and it could have a self-destruct capability that could damage any ship that wanders too close. Better safe than sorry. “Ardent, this is Captain Geary on the Dauntless. Get rid of that thing.”

Then he had to wait almost two minutes for a response. “Ardent, aye. It’s gone.” Geary watched his display, knowing that it would be several minutes at best before he’d see the indications that Ardent had blown away the satellite.

“Should we answer the signal, Captain Desjani?” the communications watch persisted.

She looked to Geary again. “It must’ve sent a report to the base.”

“Yeah. That report will arrive a little after they get visuals on us, I guess.” Geary thought the problem through, aware that he was setting in motion events and decisions that would play out for the next several hours. He tried not to think about how many lives in Corvus System and the fleet rested on what he decided now.

“Captain Desjani,” Geary stated carefully, thinking again of the shocked defenders of Corvus System. “Please inform the Syndic authorities that we are here to accept their surrender. Broadcast that through the entire system.”

She gave him a puzzled and disappointed look. “So far, everything indicates there’s very little in the way of defenses here, and what they have is hopelessly outdated. Defeating them won’t be hard at all.”

“No. But we’ll get a lot more supplies and usable parts off of them if they surrender quietly than if we have to smash them into submission. We may even convince them to pony up more if they think it’ll keep us from wrecking everything in this system.”

“Isn’t it better to ensure that their capability to resist is eliminated?”

“No.” Geary shook his head firmly. “Losing the Syndic assets in this system would mean nothing to the Syndicate Worlds, but every ship damaged and weapon expended here means something to the Alliance. We’re better off winning without a fight. If we broadcast a surrender demand now, it’ll arrive everywhere in the system about a half hour after our presence has been detected. They’ll have had time to realize how much force we have relative to them, time to get really scared, and that’s when our demand will arrive.”

Desjani still looked disappointed but held back whatever else she’d intended arguing. A few minutes later, Dauntless broadcast the message as the Alliance fleet continued falling toward the inner system at a tenth of the speed of light.

Geary watched his display, willing time and distance to pass more quickly. The Syndic base should’ve spotted the Alliance fleet by now, but even if the nickel corvettes got moving immediately, the Dauntless wouldn’t see that movement for another ten minutes. He concentrated on his own ships, trying to sort out the tangle of movement vectors so he could figure out how well they were doing at getting into formation. Judging from how hard it was to read their movements, his ships weren’t doing all that well. Granted, the fleet’s speed made repositioning more difficult, but still the individual ships seemed to be doing a poor job of straightening themselves out.

“The Syndic commander has responded to our demand that they surrender,” Captain Desjani grumbled.

“Okay.” Geary checked the time, confirming that the response to his surrender demand must’ve been sent very quickly. He took a moment to pick the right control, then found himself gazing at the image of an elderly man in an obsessively neat but worn Syndic Executive Class Officer uniform.

The Syndic Executive visibly gulped, but he shook his head and tried to look resolute. “This is to acknowledge receipt of your transmission. Your request must be denied. I am not permitted to surrender any forces or installations within this system. Transmission end.”

Oh, for… Geary let out an exasperated breath. “Our request must be denied? Is he kidding? It sounds like he thinks we asked permission to hold a dance.”

“In a few more hours we’ll bring his headquarters down around his head,” Desjani replied cheerfully.

“Maybe. Until then, there’s no reason I can’t keep trying to get the idiot to see reason.” Geary almost smiled at Desjani’s expression. “Don’t worry. I won’t beg.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t worry about it. Let me send this transmission personally.” Geary paused to order his thoughts, then pressed the right command sequence. “This is the Alliance fleet, Captain John Geary commanding, entering Corvus System. We’re here to accept your surrender,” Geary announced, not missing the irony of his demand after the Syndic CEO had used pretty much the same words to him a few weeks ago. “As you can tell from our arrival vectors, we’ve come from the Syndicate Worlds home system. Our work there is done for now.” Geary tried to put the right amount of victorious arrogance into that misleading statement. If the Syndic commander thought it meant the Alliance had trashed the Syndic home system, it might help overawe him. “We expect all Syndicate Worlds military forces and any local forces to lay down their arms, deactivate defensive systems, and cease any form of resistance. It should be obvious to you that we have more than enough firepower to enforce our demand, and that any resistance on your part would be meaningless. Failure on your part to surrender quickly guarantees the futile deaths of your defenders and serious damage to installations within this system. I expect your next message to be an agreement to surrender.”

He leaned back, looked toward Desjani, and shrugged. “If that doesn’t get through to him…”

“A hell-lance will,” Desjani finished.

“Yeah. If it comes to that.” Geary frowned at the display. “Still no movement by the corvettes as of ten minutes ago. Interesting. They’re just maintaining the same positions in orbit relative to the Syndic base.”

“Perhaps they’re planning to use them as part of the perimeter defense of the base.”

“That’d be awfully dumb, tying down ships into static defensive positions, even if we didn’t outnumber them so hugely.” He studied the picture. “I think there’s another reason, but—”

“Syndic cruiser detected orbiting the fourth planet!” the recon watch announced.

“Just one?” Geary watched the report scroll in. He didn’t recognize the class of the light cruiser, but the system declared it to be an obsolete design. “Are these specs right?”

A dozen people on the bridge hurriedly checked. Desjani answered for them all. “Yes, sir.”

“Wow. Look at the propulsion system on that thing! Why’d they stick so much propulsion capability on a light cruiser?”

Desjani frowned, studying the data. “We don’t know. The design hasn’t been encountered and is known only through intelligence sources. Apparently, only a few of those were built, and if they saw battle, the records didn’t get back to us.”

Geary nodded absently, thinking that the only reason the records wouldn’t have gotten back was if the Alliance force involved had been cut to ribbons. The light cruiser wasn’t heavily armed, though. It just had that honking big propulsion system. Hopefully I won’t have to worry what the idea was behind that. If the Syndic commander surrenders, I can ask someone. Otherwise, that cruiser will be a lot of junk floating in close formation after we blow a million holes in it. “The cruiser and the corvettes are still hanging around the planet. That’s a hopeful sign.”

“It’ll make them easier targets, anyway.”

Another hour had almost gone by when the Syndic commander’s response was received. “I am in receipt of your last communication,” the executive in the worn uniform stated precisely. “Standing Syndicate Fleet Fighting Instructions, Article Seven prohibits surrender. Article Nine requires all military installations to be defended in the most vigorous possible manner. Article Twelve states there are no situational exceptions to Articles Seven and Nine. Therefore I must again deny your request.”

Geary stared at the image for a long moment. “How can he be that stupid?”

Co-President Rione answered. “He’s a bureaucrat, Captain Geary. Look at him. Listen to him. He lives to enforce rules regardless of whether or not those rules make sense.” From her tone, Rione had met more than her share of such people already.

Geary almost laughed at the absurdity of it. A bureaucrat. Some guy who’s probably spent his entire career making sure every letter of instruction laid down decades ago and light-years away are followed down to the last subclause. The sort who thinks following every petty rule matters more than anything else. Who else would end up in command of a system where the war was never supposed to come? Who else would want to hold that command for year after empty year?

Then the reality of what the bureaucrat’s petrified insistence on following Syndic Fleet Fighting Instructions, Articles Seven, Nine, and Twelve would cause came back to Geary. He’d have to kill enough of the people serving under this bean counter to force a surrender. Damn him.

Geary punched his communication controls viciously. “To the Syndicate Commander in Corvus System. Surrender is your only option. If you force us to destroy your defenses, I assure you that I will make every effort to ensure that you personally share the fate of your front-line personnel.” He broke the connection, then turned to Captain Desjani. “Have your communications people try to ram some messages directly through to the corvettes and the cruiser telling them we’ll accept their surrender.” Desjani let disapproval show for a moment, but she nodded and gave the orders. Give it a rest, Tanya Desjani. There’s no glory in smashing people facing impossible odds.

Still three hours until the fleet got close enough to the base to engage its defenses. Desjani’s eyes strayed to the section of the display showing the battle cruisers gathered around the jump point, and it wasn’t hard for Geary to read her thoughts. Duellos’s and Tulev’s ships would get to draw blood, but Dauntless would apparently have to be content with accepting the surrender of a few outdated ships. Desjani wasn’t happy about that.

The ships of the Alliance fleet fell deeper into the Corvus System, while the individual ships crawled with widely varying speed and precision to the positions they were supposed to occupy relative to the flagship, the time-late images of the Syndic corvettes dithered around near their base, the Syndic light cruiser apparently continued to orbit the fourth world, and Geary watched it all with growing irritation. He started out trying to note every Alliance ship that was laggard about moving into the new formation, but it wasn’t too long before he’d had to switch to spotting those ships that were assuming their positions with relative speed. There were simply too many laggards to keep individual track of, and distressingly few good performers.

The leading units of the Alliance fleet were supposed to be assuming a formation resembling a huge rectangle, with the flat face toward the enemy. The main body was supposed to be in another even-larger rectangle behind that, then the support ships and their escorts were supposed to be arrayed in a cube farther back yet. Two smaller cubes off to either side were to hold screening forces ready to screen against actions by enemy forces in those areas.

Instead, the intertangled swarm of Alliance ships looked to Geary for all the world like a single distorted wedge, with the fat end toward the enemy.

An alert pulsed, and symbols sprang to life on the display. Geary held his breath as Dauntless picked up Syndic ships exiting the jump point. Modern ones, moving fast. Geary felt adrenaline surge even though he knew he was watching events that had taken place ten minutes ago. And whatever defense his battle cruisers had carried out had also played out ten minutes ago.

Geary barely had time to register the presence of a squadron of Syndic Hunter-Killers formed up around a single heavy cruiser before he watched short-range concentrated fire from Duellos’ and Tulev’s battle cruisers ripping the HuKs to shreds. Moments later, the Alliance attacks swamped the cruiser’s defenses and riddled it before it could get off more than a few shots that were absorbed harmlessly by the battle cruisers’ screens. On the heels of the visual sighting of the battle, reports from the battle cruisers began arriving, confirming what Geary had already seen.

Geary waited, but nothing else came through after the reports of the first ships. They’d been an expendable force, sent through on the off-chance that the Alliance fleet had continued fleeing in panic and hadn’t tried to defend the jump exit.

Expendable. Geary had always thought that was an ugly word and an uglier concept. Apparently, the Syndics didn’t share that feeling.

Around him, cheers had erupted on the bridge of the Dauntless as they watched the small Syndic force get slaughtered. The sound wore at Geary’s nerves, leaving him looking for something to vent his anger on. He tapped the fleet communications circuit again. “All units not yet in standard attack formation Alpha Six are to expedite their movement.”

Desjani gave Geary a surprised glance, but quickly hid her reaction. Not that the Dauntless’s captain had to worry. As flagship, the unit every other ship had to take position relative to, the Dauntless was defined as being in position the moment the order was issued. “Do you think that’s their entire fast-pursuit force?” she asked so quickly that Geary suspected she was just trying to change the subject.

How the hell would I know? Geary wanted to snap back. Instead, he thought about the question for a moment. “I think so. If they were sending through more, why leave an appreciable gap between their arrival times?” He paused. “That wasn’t a big force, though. They should’ve been able to get it through the jump point right on our heels.”

“They were just over an hour behind us.” Desjani appeared to be thinking, then nodded. “They hesitated, then sent through a small force just in case it might find us unprepared.”

Hesitated. Yes. Geary nodded back. “They sent something so they could tell their superiors they’d maintained a hot pursuit. Enough to make it look serious, but nothing big enough that they’d mind losing it.” And too bad for the sailors on the ships their bosses didn’t mind losing.

“Yes. Human life means nothing to them.” Captain Desjani looked straight into Geary’s eyes, her voice flat.

“Point taken.” I’ll have to remember not to misjudge Captain Desjani. She has what she believes are good reasons for everything she does. Geary bit his lip as he studied his display. If that was the entire Syndic fast-pursuit force, he could order the battle cruisers to rejoin the rest of the fleet. But the Syndics could’ve deliberately paused between waves to mislead defenders into thinking they wouldn’t be sending in anything else for a while. But those battle cruisers were already ten light-minutes away from the rest of the fleet. Ten minutes away for receiving messages. Ten minutes away from Geary even knowing if those ships were in trouble. At least an hour away from being able to help them. And they were getting farther away every moment. “Captain Duellos, Captain Tulev, this is Captain Geary. Well done. Please rejoin the fleet as expeditiously as possible. Have your ships assume assigned positions within standard fleet attack formation Alpha Six.”

Ten minutes for Duellos and Tulev to get the message. Then they’d have to get their ships up to speed and start a long stern chase to catch up with the fleet. It’d be quite a few hours before they were in formation.

But at that, it seemed those battle cruisers would be in formation before anyone else achieved that goal. Instead of resolving into the ordered rectangles, the Alliance fleet seemed to be rushing to further fatten the end of the rough wedge facing the Syndic base.

What the hell is going on? Geary pulled back the display, trying to see if he was missing some large picture inside the more detailed view. No. It still didn’t make sense. Only the slower units like Titan seemed to be in their assigned positions. And crippled Titan didn’t have any choice in the matter, slowly crawling across the system in the wake of the faster warshipsIt only gradually dawned on him that Titan was distressingly unaccompanied. “Where’re the ships that are supposed to be acting as close escort on Titan?” He expanded his look at the situation again. “All the support craft accompanying the fleet are missing their escorts. Where the hell are the escorts for the auxiliaries?” No one on the Dauntless’s bridge answered.

He’d avoided verbally blasting most of the other ships in the fleet again for being slow to get into formation, not wanting to give in to what he suspected was bad temper as opposed to professional judgment. But falling back into formation should’ve been a relatively quick and easy maneuver for the assigned escorts. If they’d actually been headed for their positions, they must have been in them by now. This was simply too careless—Careless? Or something else? Geary took another look at the way the ships in his fleet were strung out, then pulled the view back to get the two Syndic corvettes into the focus.

It took him entirely too long to figure out what was going on, but he finally did. “Ancestors save us all!”

Desjani stared at him, clearly wondering if the vague outburst this time referred to her own ship. “Captain Geary?”

Geary just concentrated on his display, trying to get control of his anger and voice before speaking. Finally, he pointed at the movements of the Alliance ships. “Those … fools … aren’t getting into formation because they’re all trying to get in on the kill when we make contact with those corvettes.” Now that he’d realized what was happening, it seemed obvious, the way almost the entire Alliance formation had bent and stretched toward the place where the fleet would intercept the Syndic corvettes. Most of Geary’s fleet had abandoned or ignored their assigned positions, and their assigned duties in the larger scheme of things, just so they could possibly get a lick in when the corvettes were annihilated by a ridiculously overwhelming force.

Desjani looked as if she were hesitant to speak, then finally began talking. “Aggressiveness is the primary—”

“Aggressiveness! That’s what you call this?”

“‘Close with the enemy,’” Desjani stated in a way that again sounded like a quote to Geary. Then she confirmed it. “That was one of the final orders given at Grendel.” Desjani watched him, knowing he’d make the connection.

And Geary remembered, trying once again not to let his emotions show. Because, after all, those events during a battle a century before in the Grendel Star System hadn’t been much more than a month ago for him. His ship had lost communications with the other units in the convoy as they battled the Syndics. But before the loss in communications, one of the last orders he’d given his own ship, which would’ve been heard over the command net, had been “close with the enemy.” “You’re not seriously telling me that … that…”

She nodded, radiating pride now. Pride in herself, in the fleet, and in Geary. “That’s our primary rule of engagement in the Alliance fleet. Be aggressive. Never hesitate, never delay. Close with enemy, just as Black Jack Geary ordered long ago,” Desjani declared, her face glowing.

Geary wanted to grab her and shake her. You idiot! All of you idiots! That’s not a one-size-fits-all solution to every tactical situation! It’s not even smart a lot of the time! “By every ancestor of every sailor in this fleet, Captain Desjani, discipline matters as much as aggressiveness! A few frigates can take down those corvettes. I was going to send a single squadron of them to do it.”

“They know they’re fighting under the eyes of Black Jack Geary, sir! They want to show you how good they are!”

“They’re not! They’re acting like an untrained mob! They’re ignoring my orders!” Geary bit back whatever he might’ve said next. Desjani and the other members of the Dauntless’s crew were staring at him as if he’d just slapped Desjani. “Look, aggressiveness is all well and good in its place, but if it’s not matched to intelligent tactics and coordinated, disciplined actions, it’s a recipe for disaster.”

Desjani’s pride had shaded into stubbornness. “It’s served us well, sir. The Alliance fleet is proud of its fighting spirit.”

Instead of shooting back another harsh reply, Geary took a deep breath. Yeah, it’s “served you well.” No wonder the fleet had lost so many ships. No wonder the fleet had snatched eagerly at the bait the Syndics dangled and ended up on the verge of destruction. And they were doing these things out of a totally warped view of Geary’s own philosophy. I don’t even know whether or not to feel guilty. Is it my fault if the example of Black Jack Geary they’re blindly following isn’t actually true and never was?

It’s going to take time to change this. I can’t just tell them they’re wrong. If they accept that, it’ll crush their spirit. If they don’t accept it, they won’t change, and my own authority will be even shakier than now.

He nodded with deliberate care to Desjani. “Fighting spirit is immensely important, Captain. From what I have seen, the Alliance fleet is right to be proud of its spirit.” She grinned with apparent relief at Geary’s words. Glancing around, Geary saw similar expressions on the faces of the rest of the bridge crew. “But we do need to apply that spirit properly, to make sure we do”—What’s the right phrase?—“maximum damage to the enemy. It’s like aiming a weapon to make sure it hits the target dead on.” Geary indicated his display. “Right now, this fleet isn’t as well aimed as it could be.” And aren’t I the master of understatement. “We’ll work on that.”

But even as Geary spoke the last sentence, he saw that the leading ships in the Alliance fleet were accelerating past .1 light speed, abandoning all pretense of maintaining any sort of formation as they raced each other to reach and help destroy the two Syndic corvettes. Amazingly, the now five-minute-old images from around the Syndic base showed that the corvettes still hadn’t tried to run, but were maintaining a blocking position not far from the Syndic base. Geary was still trying to decide if they were brave or foolish or simply paralyzed with fright when the reason finally became apparent—a courier ship sighted launching from the base and accelerating away. The Syndics were trying to get a report off through one of the jump points around Corvus. I wonder what Syndicate Fleet Fight Instruction article mandates sending a report? Geary wondered bitterly. That idiot in charge of them wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t spelled out as a requirement.

The forward elements of the Alliance fleet were still accelerating, past the speed where they could effectively target the enemy ships. That’s it. It’s past time I tried to regain control of this goat rope. Geary mashed the communications control with his thumb. “This is Captain Geary. All units of the Alliance fleet are ordered to return to their places in formation. All units are to reduce speed as necessary to ensure they are not exceeding .1 light.” He hated giving that order going into a battle, where individual ship commanders should’ve had the flexibility to alter speed as they fought, but Geary couldn’t see how else he could slow down all the ships crowding to reach the Syndic corvettes.

Geary bit back another curse. The displayed positions of many of his own ships were increasingly uncertain, and it would take several minutes for the farthest out to receive his last order. “Ships of the Third Frigate Squadron are ordered to engage the Syndic corvettes. Any unit in a position to intercept the Syndic courier vessel is ordered to make every effort to stop it.”

He paused, waiting to see what would happen, knowing there was nothing else he could do at the moment. It’d be a few minutes before he knew whether anyone was listening to him this time.

At least he could tell the battle cruisers were on their way back. They wouldn’t catch up with the trailing elements of the fleet for three hours, but at least they were doing what they were told.

within the next fifteen minutes, it became apparent that a little more than half of the Alliance ships charging toward the Syndic corvettes had somewhat sheepishly begun following Geary’s last order. Unfortunately, as some of the ships slowed and others kept accelerating, any semblance of order within the Alliance fleet vanished. The leading edge of the wedge had become a twisted blob in which many of Geary’s own ship positions were far from certain.

The display picture of the outer fringes of the Alliance fleet flickered in an almost strobelike way as the time-late images updated and jerked from point to point. It looked like close to a score of Alliance ships had come around and were trying to accelerate toward an intercept with the Syndic courier vessel. Orion, far out of range of any possible intercept, for some unfathomable reason had pumped out several specters aimed at the courier, even though the distance and relative speeds were too great to expect any chance of a hit.

And the Syndic light cruiser’s position had jumped wildly as Dauntless finally saw it accelerating toward the Alliance fleet. What’s he doing? He’s in no position to help screen that courier. The blob that made up the Alliance fleet had now stretched out in three directions, one thin arm reaching “up” and to the side toward the courier’s path, another larger mass of ships still heading for the Syndic corvettes and their base, which were now less than an hour away from contact, and a spreading cloud of ships at the back where Alliance units were finally dropping back toward their assigned positions. The Syndic light cruiser, having come around the fourth planet, seemed to be accelerating under the force of its huge propulsion system as if aiming to skim along the bottom of the Alliance blob.

Geary stared at the display, trying to understand what the light cruiser was up to. Estimated speed and directional vectors for the Syndic warship kept jumping around as it exceeded .1 light and kept accelerating. It was also apparently altering its course slightly again and again, so that as Alliance ships picked up time-late observations distorted by relativistic effects, the “compensated” position of the cruiser also jerked from spot to spot and its projected course swung wildly through space. Only two things seemed certain. The cruiser was still accelerating and it was still heading toward the Alliance fleet.

Why? If he’s just running away, why run away through the Alliance fleet? But how is he planning to engage us? As close as he is and going that fast, he’ll shoot past our ships with no better idea of where they are than they can tell where he is. Even with his propulsion system, by the time he’d be able to slow down to fighting speed he’d be—.

“Damn!” Geary didn’t even notice the reaction on the bridge of the Dauntless to his explosive curse. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve figured this out a long time ago. A ship built with that much propulsion capability must be intended for a special kind of attack. He gestured at the general area of his display where the representation of the Syndic cruiser was flickering from point to point. “He’s headed for Titan. ““What?” Captain Desjani followed Geary’s movement with an expression of shock. “How could it? He’d never be able to figure out exactly where Titan was at the speed he’s going.”

“It’s what he’s designed for, Captain Desjani! I should’ve known as soon as I saw it!” Geary jabbed his finger at the display again, drawing an arc through the front of the Alliance fleet and ending at Titan. “Major propulsion capability so he can accelerate quickly to speeds high enough that the relativistic effects make targeting him damn near impossible. Once he’s dashed through defending units that can’t target him worth a damn, he’ll spin around and use that same propulsion power to brake hard enough that he can slow down to a speed that allows him to engage whatever soft targets the warships are protecting.”

Desjani actually snarled as she studied the display. “Ancestors forgive me. He’ll be at maximum velocity when he pierces through our lead units. We’ll have very little chance of achieving hits on him unless we can fix his course exactly—”

“We can’t! We can’t exactly project his course because we don’t know exactly where he is now!” Geary paused, then bared his teeth. “But we know exactly where he’s going.”

“Titan?” Desjani’s hands played across her controls. A hugely elongated cone appeared, the broad end centered on where the ship systems estimated the Syndic cruiser was now. “Here. If that cruiser is headed for Titan and has to brake down to a velocity low enough to get high-probability targeting data on Titan as he passes within weapons range, he’ll have to start braking about here, and that’ll mean he’ll intercept Titan’s course here.” Her finger pointed at the place where the cone had shrunk down to a narrow needle.

Geary nodded, feeling a momentary surge of exultation. That was why the Syndics hadn’t built more ships like that light cruiser. Once you figured out what their target was, escort ships behind the main body could intercept it short of the target. But Geary’s elation quickly faded as he studied the area around the course Desjani had drawn in. There’s nothing in place to stop that cruiser. Titan’s escorts are still too far off from chasing after those worthless corvettes, the reserve squadrons are scattered all over the place, and Titan’s fallen even farther back because the fleet has been accelerating away from her.

And the commander of that Syndic light cruiser had been smart enough to see what was going on and to see that Titan was the Achilles heel of the Alliance fleet. Smarter than me, Geary admitted. That’s a very good sailor out there. Too bad I have to do my best to kill him or her.

The first thing to do was to make sure that the light cruiser had something else to worry about. “All ships in Cruiser Squadrons Eight and Eleven are to pursue the Syndic light cruiser.” That was far more ships than should be needed, but Geary couldn’t tell how many of the ships in those squadrons were actually close enough to the Syndic cruiser to worry it. None of them could possibly catch the cruiser before it reached Titan, but if Geary could slow it down, perhaps they could play a role. “All other ships engage the light cruiser if it comes within effective weapons range.”

He took a moment to check on the corvettes. Their screening of the courier launch over, the Syndic corvettes had turned to run. Geary shook his head. They’re too slow, and they waited too long. There were Alliance ships less than a half hour behind them, and the corvettes couldn’t accelerate worth a damn. “Captain Desjani, please inform those two corvettes that if they do not surrender immediately, they will surely be destroyed.”

“Yes, Captain Geary.” Desjani kept her thoughts to herself this time.

Up and to the side, the Syndic courier ship had depended on speed and relativistic uncertainty to get past the onrushing Alliance ships, but an Alliance destroyer had taken advantage of the luck of its position relative to the courier and rolled in from below in a perfect intercept. Geary had only a moment to realize he hadn’t offered the courier a chance to surrender before the destroyer opened fire, its hell-lances dancing along the path the courier was following. The courier ran into the barrage, which punched right through the thin defenses of the Syndic ship. The courier’s engines blew, and the entire ship vanished as the explosion shattered it into small pieces. Pity. Good intercept, though. Who was that destroyer? Rapier, one of the Sword Class ships. I’ll need to remember her.

“One of the corvettes has broadcast surrender,” Dauntless’s communications watch announced, unable to keep a trace of dismay from her voice.

“Tell”—Geary checked the display hastily.—“Audacious to overtake and board the corvette and ensure it’s stripped of anything we can use.” He paused, thinking about how poorly orders had been followed so far, then hit his own controls. “All units in the Alliance fleet, this is Captain Geary. I have personally accepted surrender of the Syndic corvette PC-14558.” Desjani stared at him, eyes wide. Geary avoided her gaze, looking stubbornly at his own display. He’d just told everyone that the surrendered corvette was effectively under his personal protection now. It was an extreme measure, but he had an ugly feeling that otherwise even a surrendered ship wouldn’t be safe from attack by some of his overenthusiastic commanders.

He switched his gaze back to the battle cruisers far astern, wishing they could somehow teleport next to Titan, then searched for the Syndic cruiser.

And found it racing past the leading Alliance ships.

Geary watched with a sense of helplessness as the Alliance ships closest to the Syndic cruiser scrambled to intercept it, and saw all of them fail as the cruiser’s velocity, now up past .2 light, so effectively confused Alliance targeting systems that they kept misjudging their predictions. A few specters came close, trying to follow right up the cruiser’s path. But all of them were caught in a stern chase with low relative speed. They died in flares of light as they were taken out by the Syndic cruiser’s defenses, which had only to fire backward, knowing any pursuer would be coming from directly astern.

Everyone was looking at him now. They weren’t saying anything, but Geary knew what they were thinking. What do we do, Black Jack? How do you get us out of this mess? Because he knew they’d be certain he could. Idiots. If they kept getting into terrible tactical situations, how long would it be before Geary couldn’t figure out any way out?

Damn and damn again. That Syndic commander spotted the weakest point in the fleet. If we lose Titan our chances of getting home go way down. But he doesn’t have to kill Titan. He just has to slow her down some more, leaving us to either wait around for the main Syndic fleet he no doubt guesses is coming after us, or abandon a ship this fleet needs.

No, Titan’s just one of the weakest points in this fleet. The other weak point is the lack of discipline that led Titan’s escorts to abandon their responsibilities. I can’t do anything to lessen our need for Titan, but I can sure as hell try to fix the discipline in this fleet.

If I get the chance.

Geary’s eyes ranged across the display, ignoring the combat system’s uncertain guesses at the Syndic cruiser’s exact position and vector, letting his instincts judge the chances of any Alliance warships getting to the Syndic cruiser before it could reach Titan. He barely registered the rapid death under an avalanche of Alliance hell-lance fire of the second Syndic corvette, the one that had tried to flee rather than surrender, as Geary realized there was in fact one ship still far enough back to interpose herself in time.

Dauntless.

That cruiser could be on a suicide run. Dauntless should be able to take it easily in terms of firepower, but if it decides to ram Dauntless or run in close and self-destruct, I could lose this ship. Even if the cruiser doesn’t want to ram anybody, his ability to see what’s ahead of him in time to do anything about it is severely compromised by his speed. Just trying for an intercept could cause a collision bad enough to annihilate both ships.

I promised Admiral Bloch I’d get this fleet home with the hypernet key. I can’t risk Dauntless.

But if I don’t risk Dauntless, I may well lose Titan.

But Bloch and Desjani both said the hypernet key on Dauntless is more important than anything else in this fleet.

He had a sudden memory of a very old myth, of a hero trying to make it home from a long war and losing his ships one by one, his followers one by one, until only he was left to come back. In the myth, that had been a triumph of sorts. And he had a vision of Dauntless limping back into Alliance space, alone, the wreckage of scores of other Alliance ships thrown to the wolves behind it, littering the path home.

And he knew that wouldn’t be a triumph of any kind in his eyes.

Even if it would, it’s too high a price.

And how long will these people follow me if I hang back and let them die?

Geary refocused on the people around him, watching him, and realized only a couple of seconds had elapsed while he’d been debating within himself. “Captain Desjani, I want Dauntless to take out that Syndic cruiser before it gets within range of Titan.”

Desjani grinned as the other sailors on the bridge uttered whoops of joy. “It’ll be a pleasure.”

“He’s very fast, and he’s good, Captain Desjani. Don’t take any chances. We have to ensure a kill, and we’re only going to get one shot at it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dauntless jumped forward under Captain Desjani’s commands, arcing over and down at her highest acceleration, Geary feeling a surge of excitement himself as the ship headed for her prey. He watched, not wanting to give orders over Desjani’s head directly to her crew, but fearing Desjani would misjudge the Syndic cruiser’s course. If they shot past the cruiser, the time required to turn and catch up would doom Titan.

Desjani was playing it smart, though. Geary watched the course she was pushing her ship down and realized Desjani was ignoring the combat system estimates. Instead, she was bringing Dauntless down to an intercept well ahead of the path the cruiser would have to follow to get within weapon’s range of Titan. At the speed the Syndic cruiser was going, it probably wouldn’t be able to see Dauntless’s maneuver until too late to react. Unless that Syndic commander guesses Dauntless will move to an intercept. But what can they do? If they alter course they won’t pass close enough to Titan to engage her. If they slow down to screw up the course projection, my other ships will be able to get close enough to throw enough junk at the general location of that cruiser that something will be bound to hit. And they can’t speed up more because they wouldn’t be able to brake down to engagement speed in time to shoot at Titan and have any reasonable chance of a hit.

I hope.

Geary watched on his display as Dauntless curved down toward a point where she’d cross the projected path of the Syndic cruiser and felt a strange pang of fellowship with whoever commanded the enemy ship. They obviously knew how to drive a ship and had a well-trained crew. How long had they been out here, exiled to Corvus System, waiting for the very unlikely chance that any Alliance force would ever arrive here? How easy it would’ve been to let things slide, to assume they’d never see combat, to let the ship and the crew deteriorate. But whoever they were, they hadn’t let things slide, they’d kept their ship and crew in top shape, and the efforts had almost paid off. Might still pay off.

The Syndic cruiser’s estimated position jerked again. “He’s going to have to start braking soon,” Desjani noted.

Geary nodded. “Do you think he’s seen us yet?”

“Unlikely, sir. He’s got old combat systems. They’ll be severely stressed by all the ships out here and trying to compensate for relativistic distortion at the speed he’s going. But even if he sees us, he won’t get past us,” Desjani promised in a soft voice.

“I know.”

Desjani grinned fiercely at Geary’s simple statement of confidence in her, but she kept her eyes on the combat display as she brought Dauntless down on the charging cruiser. Geary frowned. Dauntless had to be able to hit that enemy cruiser, but at the combined speeds of the Dauntless and the Syndic cruiser, they’d flash past each other in an instant without any chance for the targeting systems to engage. Had Desjani spotted that? Or was she so focused on reaching the enemy that she hadn’t realized what would happen? Should he say anything to Desjani? Overrule her, perhaps, in front of her crew?

The paths of the two ships kept converging, the remaining distance to the Syndic cruiser scrolling down at a fantastic pace. Geary finally cleared his throat. “Captain—”

But Desjani held up one hand, palm out, her eyes still riveted on the combat display. “I have it, Captain Geary.”

He wasn’t nearly as certain as she was of that, but Geary kept his silence. It was one of those moments he recognized, when you had to either have confidence in someone or else show everyone that you lacked confidence in that person. And Desjani had seemed very capable to him.

So Geary tried to look like he trusted her while inside he prayed to his ancestors that Desjani knew what she was doing.

“He should be braking now.” Captain Desjani rapped out orders, pivoting Dauntless around so her main propulsion system faced forward. “All ahead full.” Dauntless shuddered as her drives started braking her own velocity, the ship’s structure groaning with stress, and Geary feeling the force pressing him hard into his seat. A high-pitched keening noise filled the air as Dauntless’s inertial dampers fought to keep the stresses on ship and crew within bearable limits.

Dauntless’s projected course was altering quickly, bending down toward the path the Syndic cruiser had to be taking en route Titan.

Closer. Geary tried to swallow without showing it.

Desjani’s eyes were fixed on the display. “He should be down below point-two light now if he’s braking to engage Titan.” The image of the Syndic cruiser, only light-seconds away now in the closest thing to real time that naval engagements often saw, seemed to be very close to the course Desjani had predicted. “Set grapeshot to fire in sequence as we cross the cruiser’s estimated path,” Desjani ordered. “Charge null-field and stand-by.”

Dauntless, still braking hard, swept across the projected path of the Syndic cruiser at an angle, its grapeshot launchers hurling out their ball bearings down that path at millisecond intervals as each crossed it.

“Fire four specters, two to starboard and two to port.” The missiles swept out, each braking itself farther as its onboard sensors sought out a good fix on the Syndic cruiser undistorted by relativistic effects, then accelerating again toward their target.

Desjani paused. “Fire null-field.”

Geary watched on the display as the huge glowing ball that represented the null-field charge shot up and backward from Dauntless, toward the bottom of the Syndic cruiser’s current course.

And suddenly the Syndic cruiser was there, the range scales scrolling downward incredibly fast as it swept forward, either still unaware of Dauntless’s actions or trusting in speed to get it past Titan’s last defender. Even though he should’ve been expecting it, knowing the cruiser had to be braking, Geary was still surprised when he realized he was looking at the stern of the cruiser as it used its massive propulsion system to slow its progress.

Lights sparkled as the Syndic cruiser ran tail-on into the barrage of grapeshot, each ball bearing impacting the cruiser’s shields and vaporizing in a flash. The cumulative impacts slowed the cruiser as if it were plowing through a close-set succession of brick walls, even as they seriously weakened its rear-facing shields. Geary watched the display, his jaw tight, thinking about how that extra deceleration was probably overwhelming the ability of the cruiser’s inertial dampers to compensate, and what effect that’d be having on her crew. But there were too many lives in the Alliance fleet riding on stopping the Syndic cruiser. I can’t let the fate of the cruiser’s crew affect my decisions. And, damn, but that was a nicely done intercept. “Very nice job, Captain Desjani.”

Her face actually flushed with pleasure at the praise, but Desjani kept her voice dispassionate. “He’s not dead yet.”

A moment later the cruiser raced into contact with the null-field. Weakened by the successive impacts of the grapeshot volleys, the shields flared and failed as the weapon dug a swath along one side of the fast-moving ship like a knife slashing through butter. The Syndic light cruiser reeled from its course as the charge tore a trench through a long section of the hull and partway inside. Through the glow of the gas cloud, which had been solid parts of the cruiser moments before, Geary watched with a sort of sick fascination as the crippled Syndic warship shot past above the Dauntless. In that brief moment, Geary thought he could see secondary explosions and escaping atmosphere as compartments once safely inside the cruiser were now suddenly open to space.

He was wondering if the Dauntless would need to catch up to the Syndic cruiser in order to finish it off when the specters fired earlier came angling in from either side, their target now slowed appreciably. Somehow, a defensive system on the cruiser was still working and managed a lucky hit that made one specter flare and disappear. The specter’s companion missile went into a series of evasive maneuvers, but even as it did so the two specters on the other side looped straight into the cruiser’s beam.

Twin explosions blossomed two-thirds of the way down the cruiser’s hull, and the ship broke apart. Moments later, the smaller aft portion erupted into a larger explosion as the power core blew it into nothingness.

The forward part of the cruiser, crippled and torn, spun off, then took another blow as the last remaining specter rammed into it and blew a huge chunk away.

Geary became aware that the bridge of the Dauntless was echoing with cheers. He took a deep breath, watching the remains of the Syndic cruiser tumble off into space, then tore his gaze away and saw Captain Desjani watching him, her mouth stretched in a broad, triumphant grin.

“Why aren’t you cheering, Captain Geary?” she asked.

Geary closed his eyes. “I never feel like cheering when brave people die, Captain Desjani. Those Syndics had to be stopped, but they fought well.”

She shrugged, still smiling. “They’d be cheering if the shoe was on the other foot.”

“Maybe. But I don’t model myself on the Syndics.” He nodded toward his display, not looking at her. “You did an outstanding job on that intercept, Captain Desjani. There’re no more Syndic combatants active. I’d like your recommendation on the possibility of getting boats over to the wreck.”

“It’d be hard to intercept, and after what we did to it there’s unlikely to be anything left salvaging.”

“There might be survivors, Captain Desjani.”

She remained silent for a moment. “I’ll see what can be done.”

He heard disagreement in her voice again but didn’t really care.