So It Begins (32 page)

  “Join the fleet and service the Alliance,” Decala agreed in the sailors’ usual sardonic twist on the actual recruitment slogan to ‘serve’ the Alliance.

  “We’re two hours from intercepting the light cruisers and HuKs. I want the ship at maximum combat readiness one hour prior to intercept, just in case the Syndics try something else.”

  Decala nodded. “Yes, sir. But . . . combat readiness. Captain, if you’re wrong—”

  “Unfortunately, there’s a lot of different ways for me to be wrong,” Geary said. “We’re going to stick to our most fundamental mission. Defend Alliance space, citizens, and property.” And hope that there hadn’t been an unusually monumental screw-up by fleet staff which had left them at Grendel facing what was supposed to be a diplomatic situation but was fast spiraling out of control.

  “All systems at maximum combat readiness,” Decala reported. “All personnel at combat stations.”

  “Very well,” Geary acknowledged. He, Decala, and everyone else in the crew were in survival suits, ready in case the hull was breached and atmosphere within parts of the ship lost. “Charge hell lance batteries, load grapeshot launchers, and prep wraith missiles.”

  A moment later, as his commands were being executed, a virtual image popped up on Geary’s display. The avatar of Captain Erabus Booth, the current aide to the assistant to the deputy to the fleet chief of staff, gave Geary a stern look. “Charging and preparing weapons is not authorized by current guidance for routine encounters with Syndicate Worlds warships. You are directed to review regulations and instructions governing the current situation and to ensure that your every action conforms with those regulations and instructions. Failure to comply fully with existing guidance will result in appropriate reprimand or disciplinary action should investigation reveal failures or lapses in judgments—”

  Geary closed his eyes. “Commander Decala, please instruct the combat systems officer to kill Captain Booth.”

  “Disable his avatar in the combat system alert routine, you mean, sir?”

  “That’s all we have within reach at the moment, so it’ll have to do. Cara, if everything does go to hell here and I don’t make it back, please do your best to get those damned staff avatar alert routines removed from fleet warship operating systems. Tell everybody it was my last wish.” Not that he expected anyone would care what his last wishes had been if it came to that.

  “Yes, sir.” Decala didn’t argue, since she and every other officer on the
Merlon
felt the same way about the automated staff alerts embedded in the programming of the ship’s systems, and which ship officers usually referred to as HQ viruses or staff infections.

  Geary took another long breath, blowing it out slowly before he transmitted his next message. The Syndic light cruisers and HuKs were close now, only five light minutes distant, and coming on fast, the swift HuKs well ahead of the light cruisers. With
Merlon
approaching on an intercept from one side, the combined closing velocity was about point one two light speed, enough to stress the abilities of the combat systems to score hits during the very brief moments when the ships would be within range of each other. “Syndicate Worlds warships operating in the Grendel star system, this is Commander Geary on the Alliance heavy cruiser
Merlon
. Your ships are operating in an Alliance star system without authorization or clearance. You will not be allowed to jump for T’shima until such time as appropriate authorization is received. You must alter your vectors immediately. You will not be permitted to cross the current track of
Merlon
. You are ordered to veer off
now
.”

  He had done everything but threaten to open fire. Would it be enough? As the minutes went by with no reply from the Syndics and no variation in their course and speed, the answer increasingly seemed to be “no.”

  “We’ll be within wraith range of the HuKs in fifteen minutes,” Decala reported.

  Fifteen minutes. Geary checked the missile engagement parameters. He could fire as early as fifteen minutes, or as late as twenty-five minutes from now. After that,
Merlon
would be too close to the Syndic warships for the missiles to acquire targets before they shot past each other.

  Decala wasn’t pressing him for a decision. He imagined she was grateful that the decision wasn’t up to her. He would have been grateful in her place. “This would be a good time for my ancestors to give me a sign.”

  “I’ll let you know if mine tell me anything. Why do they just keep coming? Are the Syndics trying to provoke us into firing at them?” Decala wondered. “Putting the blame on us? But we’re in an Alliance star system. They’re disregarding our warnings. Any fault for what happens will clearly be theirs.”

  Geary managed a crooked smile. “Do your best to get assigned to my court-martial as one of the voting members.”

  She swallowed and spoke with exaggerated calm. “Have you ever actually been in combat before?”

  “Some minor incidents. Nothing like this.”

  “Me, either.”

  Ten minutes until they reached the engagement envelope for the wraiths. Geary made his voice as stern as he could. “Syndicate Worlds warships approaching the Alliance cruiser
Merlon
, you are ordered to change your vectors immediately to cease closing on any Alliance shipping or the jump point for T’shima. You will
not
be permitted to cross the track of this cruiser. This is your
final
warning.”

  Nothing changed, the Syndic warships approaching without the slightest sign of altering their courses or speeds. “Lieutenant Commander Decala, work up an engagement plan for the wraiths. I want the first wave targeted on the propulsion systems of the Syndic HuKs.”

  “Yes, sir.” With the help of the automated systems, the solutions popped up almost instantly. “Engagement plan prepared.”

  Geary felt outside himself for a moment, as if were he watching himself giving orders. “Assign the plan to the first wave of wraiths.”

  “Plan assigned. Wraiths ready to fire. Awaiting command authorization.”

  A red marker glowed before Geary now. All he had to do was tap that marker, call out “fire” for a verbal confirmation, and the missiles would fly. Geary activated an internal circuit letting him speak to his entire crew. “As you are all aware, we are close to contact with Syndicate Worlds’ warships. There is a real possibility that we may find ourselves forced into combat within a short time. You are an outstanding crew, well-trained, motivated and steadfast, and I know that you will face whatever challenge arises in a manner that will make our ancestors proud of us all.” As Geary ended the internal transmission, he wondered if he had overdone the pep talk, but it was how he honestly felt at the moment. “It’s up to the Syndics now,” he commented to his executive officer.

  “They must be planning something,” Decala insisted. “Why else keep coming? They’re counting on us not doing anything.”

  “We can’t afford not to do anything. They must know that.” Though the uncertainties made the temptation to not act very powerful. He didn’t
know
the Syndics were planning to attack. But he did know that if the light cruisers and HuKs got past
Merlon
unmolested, they would easily overhaul the transports, and could overwhelm
Pommel
and the three destroyers. The entire convoy could be wiped out, would be wiped out if the Syndics staged a surprise attack, and the Syndics would arrive at T’shima with no warning.

  Which had been the plan, Geary suddenly realized. “They didn’t know we’d be here. Their target is T’shima, but once they saw us they knew they had to prevent any of our ships from jumping first and warning T’shima the Syndic flotilla was coming.”

  Five minutes to missile engagement envelope.

  Decala nodded. “That explains what they’re doing. Keep stringing us along as long as possible. Get as close as they can before they attack to ensure none of us get away. It all fits.”

  It fit perhaps too neatly. Geary clenched his jaw tight enough to hurt as he thought about what firing first might mean, how many people might die here and afterward before the resulting conflict was resolved.

  But a final piece of the puzzle came to him as
Merlon
entered the wraith engagement envelope. “No battleship. No battle cruiser. Why would a major diplomatic mission not be accompanied by a capital ship?”

  “Because the Syndic battleships and battle cruisers must be engaged elsewhere,” Decala answered, her voice momentarily faltering. “May the living stars preserve us . . . . The Syndics must have flotillas entering Alliance space in many places. They’re attacking all along the border, without any warning. They must be. That’s why the Syndics here didn’t call off the attack when they saw us. This is just one of dozens of coordinated strikes.”

  Geary’s finger hovered near the red firing marker. The Syndic HuKs were very close now, only a light-minute distant, less than five minutes before intercept. He made up his mind, but as his finger moved alerts blared from the combat system. “The Syndic light cruisers are firing missiles!” the operations watch cried.

  His finger finished moving, the red marker flashing green. “Fire,” Geary said in a voice that sounded to him like that of a stranger. “Alter course up zero three degrees, come starboard zero four zero degrees. Hell lance batteries and grapeshot launchers engage when the HuKs enter firing envelopes.” The charged particle beams of the hell lances had much shorter ranges than the missiles, and the solid metal ball bearings of the grapeshot were only effective at very close range where their patterns were tight enough for the kinetic impacts to overwhelm a ship’s defenses. “Activate full counter-measures against Syndic missiles.”

 
Merlon
shuddered slightly as a wave of wraiths erupted from her, the missiles accelerating onto intercepts with the sterns of the oncoming Syndic HuKs. The Alliance cruiser was already turning, thrusters and main propulsion units pushing her onto a course close to parallel with that of the Syndics as the HuKs and
Merlon
rushed into contact. The final maneuver cut the closing rate slightly, but the two forces were still approaching each other at close to point one light speed, or about 30,000 kilometers per second.

  The moment of closest approach came and went, the remaining distance dwindling too fast for human minds to grasp, weapons firing under automated control since humans couldn’t react quickly enough, Geary barking out more commands the instant it was over. “Come starboard zero one two degrees, accelerate to point one one light speed.”
Merlon
’s structure groaned as the inertial dampers fought to compensate for maneuvering stresses which would have otherwise torn apart both ship and crew.

  “Nice run!” Decala exulted.

  Geary checked the results popping up on his display. Of the six HuKs, four had lost all or almost all propulsion as the wraith missiles slammed into their sterns. Two other HuKs were still able to maneuver, but one of them had been battered severely by
Merlon
’s hell lances and grapeshot and was falling off to one side, most of its weapons assessed out of action. The sixth HuK had only taken a couple of hits, but
Pommel
and the three Alliance destroyers could easily handle a single HuK which had already taken some damage. “We’ve still got four light cruisers to deal with.”

  “Syndic missiles inbound on final,” the combat systems watch called. “Hell lance batteries engaging.”

  Caught in a stern chase by
Merlon
’s maneuvers, the Syndic missiles were relatively easy targets, but there were a lot of them against the defenses which the heavy cruiser could bring to bear as thrusters pivoted her to face the attack bow on.
Merlon
shuddered again as a missile tore into her shields, weakening them, then bucked as a second missile rammed through the weak area and exploded against the cruiser’s armor. “Hell lance battery one alpha out of commission. No estimated time to repair. Armor breached forward. Damage control is sealing breached compartments,” Decala reported, her voice steady.

  “Target the next wave of wraiths on the propulsion systems of the light cruisers, then fire the final wave at the same targets.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He had a few moments to make another transmission, one to which he didn’t expect to have time to receive any reply. “
Pommel
, you are ordered to jump the convoy to T’shima as soon as you are in position to do so. All units are to jump. You are to warn T’shima that a Syndic flotilla is enroute and that they have initiated combat action against the Alliance.
Merlon
will follow if possible.” He had to take a second then to ensure his voice remained steady. “If
Merlon
cannot follow, you must assume her destruction at the hands of the Syndics and request that the Alliance fleet undertake action to drive the Syndics from Grendel and rescue
Merlon
’s crew as well as the crew of the emergency station. Good luck and may your ancestors watch over you. Geary out.”