The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian (23 page)

It would take precious seconds for the command to reach the ships, then more seconds for the orders to be understood and carried out. He could only hope that there would be enough seconds left to make a difference, and that these sudden alterations of position among those ships would not expose the formation as a whole to greater damage if the Syndics really did try suicide runs again.

“She really is a Geary,” Desjani murmured in admiring tones as she watched her own display. “The rest of us were thinking about what had happened last time, but she thought about what could happen this time.”

“What does that make me?” Geary asked, mentally lashing himself for not seeing what Jane had, for making assumptions about what the enemy would do, for being—

“Not perfect,” Desjani replied. “And smart enough to listen when someone reminds you that you might have missed something.”

Watching the two groups of new warships racing to meet his formation as it climbed above the plane of the star system, Geary could not find much comfort in her words. The exposed destroyers and light cruisers were moving, their vectors curving in toward the mass of the formation, while the warships of the heavy cruiser division nearest those destroyers and light cruisers were curving out slightly to help cover them. Had he acted in time, had Jane Geary’s suggestion been right, what would the Syndics actually do . . .

Groups Alpha and Bravo shot past the Alliance formation, their tracks changing at the last moment to curve outward, weapons slamming shots toward the Alliance light cruiser that was still most exposed.

“
Pectoral
took a hit through her shields,” Lieutenant Yuon announced. “Minor damage. One hell lance off-line.”

Groups Alpha and Bravo were still turning, arcing up and over in a maneuver Geary knew very well. “They’re going to make another run.”

Another alert pulsed on his display.

“Groups Cable and Delta are accelerating onto intercept courses,” Lieutenant Castries said.

Geary glowered at his display, knowing his options were limited.
If I send a pursuit force after any of those groups, I expose that pursuit force to attack by the other three groups while the group it targets avoids contact. If my pursuit force is strong enough to handle that threat, it will be too slow to catch the highly maneuverable groups of Syndic warships, and it will weaken my main formation.

Tanya was watching him, confident he would order some sort of pursuit, but Geary shook his head. “They’ve got us reacting to them. They want me to send ships out of the formation to chase them. I’m going to do the opposite, to give us time to think.”

The necessary formation was the oldest in the book, a sphere. But he needed to designate where his units would go on the surface of that sphere, and how large it would be. “Armadillo,” he told Desjani.

“What?”

“Formation Armadillo.”

“Is that real?” She entered the request, then started in surprise. “Are you serious? A perfect sphere? That formation is—”

“Lousy. It disperses firepower. Against a strong opponent, it’s a disaster because the opponent can concentrate against any point on the sphere. But if your opponent is a lot weaker than you, it offers no vulnerable points to attack. Everything is equally well defended.”

“We’re going on the defensive?” she asked, her voice growing sharp. “They’ll see this and think we’re afraid. They’ll think we’re curling up in a fright ball and too scared to fight them. The fleet won’t understand that kind of behavior before the enemy.”

He felt a stab of anger at her tone of voice and the pointed questions she was asking. “Yes, Captain Desjani, we are going on the defensive until I have time to think and evaluate what’s going on in this star system. We are going to frustrate the Syndic tactics aimed at destroying our escorts, and we’re going to frustrate whatever plans the Syndics have to stampede me into making decisions.”

She subsided, flushing slightly. He thought Desjani might be angry, but from the way she avoided his eyes, it was more likely embarrassment. “My apologies, Admiral.”

“That’s all right. If I wasn’t having to react to your anger, I’d probably be mad as hell myself. Help me set this up. But I’m going to make our attackers’ job a little more difficult while we’re doing that.” Geary tapped his comm controls. “All units in First Fleet, immediate execute down one eight zero degrees.”

That would bring them back toward the threatening derelicts right at the jump exit, but on the other side of them since the fleet had curved upward and now would bend downward, looping high over the old ships. He would still have to watch for any unit getting too close to those old ships, though.

Unless . . .

“I’m seeing that the old ships near the jump exit are not broadcasting any identification. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Lieutenants Castries and Yuon replied in unison.

“Emissary Rione, does anything in the peace agreement with the Syndics restrict any action by me against hazards to navigation?”

She looked puzzled. “I will have to check, Admiral.” Rione began entering queries, studying her display intently.

Desjani paused in her work arranging ships around the sphere of the Armadillo formation. “Hazards to navigation? Does that mean what I think it does?”

“I hope so,” Geary said, drawing a slight smile from her. Maybe this particular Tanya storm would pass quickly.

Rione blinked as she refocused on Geary. “Admiral, all the peace agreement says is that standard navigational practices are to be respected. I believe that is only in the agreement because it’s part of the boilerplate for treaties.”

“Thank you, Madam Emissary. Captain Desjani, have the rules for dealing with navigational hazards changed in the last century?”

She shook her head, smiling wider. “No, sir. Any ship encountering a navigational hazard to the movement of other ships is to either post warn-off beacons or take necessary steps to eliminate the hazard.”

“I don’t think we need to expend any warn-off beacons,” Geary said. “Especially since those derelicts are so close to the jump exit. An arriving ship might not have time to avoid them in response to a warn-off.” He studied his display briefly, watching the increasingly shabby formation of the First Fleet as it came over and headed straight down relative to the plane of the star system.

The way the fleet’s formation was now arranged, one of the battle cruiser divisions would be on the side closest to the old ships as they went down past the jump exit.

“Captain Tulev, this is Admiral Geary. The ships I have just designated as derelicts pose a hazard to navigation. You are to alter the course of the Second Battle Cruiser Division sufficiently to target and destroy the derelicts using specter missiles. Do not close within hell-lance range. Return to the formation after firing missiles. Geary, out.”

Ten seconds later, Captain Tulev called from
Leviathan
. “I understand. We will destroy the derelicts.”

Desjani nodded approvingly. “Those small groups of Syndic warships won’t want to tangle with Tulev’s division of battle cruisers. Permission to ask a question?”

“Dammit, Tanya—”

“I’ll take that as a yes, Admiral. Why are we destroying those things? Not that I object to destroying them.”

He gave her an annoyed look. “We’re destroying them, Captain Desjani, because I don’t want to have to worry about them anymore, and because I can eliminate what are very likely Syndic booby traps without the Syndics being able to object or complain.”

Rione broke in. “You are certain those derelicts are dangerous?”

“I am, Madam Emissary. You remember what we did at Lakota, rigging badly damaged ships to explode? You told me while we were at Midway that President Iceni said high-level Syndics had seen detailed reports on the tactics I used after I assumed command of the fleet.”

“And you think the Syndics are trying to use your own methods against you?” Rione asked.

“From what we heard at Midway, I think they’re going to do their best.”

The sudden reversal in the track of the Alliance fleet had forced the four groups of Syndic ships to make dramatic changes to their own vectors. Groups Alpha and Bravo found themselves far out of position, required to alter course to dive in pursuit of the Alliance formation. Groups Cable and Delta, coming up toward the Alliance ships, faced the opposite problem as their intercepts with the Alliance fleet abruptly threatened to occur much sooner and at much higher relative velocity than planned.

Geary watched Cable and Delta closely, wanting to see how they reacted. Would they adjust their tracks on the fly to manage a quicker and riskier encounter or pull off to come around again under more controlled conditions?

“Scared them off,” Desjani commented in a neutral voice as Cable and Delta both curved outward, avoiding contact with any Alliance ships. “What do you think of this?”

He looked over the work on the Armadillo she had done to supplement his. The Alliance formation would shrink in, forming a fairly tight ball, the assault transports,
Invincible
, and the auxiliaries in the center, battleships and battle cruisers spaced around the outer shell to reinforce tight lattices of smaller warships. “It looks good to me. Are you buying into this now?”

“Yes, sir.” She shrugged. “Whatever they’re up to, they won’t expect this. I’ve never seen it used.”

“Neither have I. It’s one hell of a big target. We’ll hold it long enough to figure out what to do next, and not a moment longer.” He watched Tulev’s battle cruisers,
Leviathan
,
Dragon
,
Steadfast
, and
Valiant
, sweep outward from the current formation, altering their track enough to come within missile range of the derelicts. The old ships must still have some maneuvering capability in order to stay directly in front of and that close to the jump exit, but whatever that capability was it wouldn’t be enough for those half wrecks to avoid missiles.

“Are there any crews aboard them?” Charban asked. Unnoticed, he had also come onto the bridge.

Desjani waved toward Lieutenant Castries, delegating the answer to her.

“It’s doubtful there are any crews on any of them, sir,” Castries said. “Automated systems would have easily handled the maneuvering to keep those old ships on station, and we’ve received no indications of any living crew aboard.”

“Thank you,” Charban said. “What if there
are
people on board?”

“If there are . . . Sir, if there is anyone aboard any of those ships, they will see the missiles coming in plenty of time to get into an escape pod.”

“Which would not do them much good if the Admiral’s estimate is right and those ships are rigged as bombs,” Rione pointed out.

Geary turned enough to give her a pointed look.
I know she agreed with my decision to take out those derelicts. Sometimes that woman is contrary just for the sake of being contrary.
“If the ships are rigged as bombs, anyone on board would know that. We can’t be responsible if they get caught in a trap they intended for us.”

He watched as missiles launched from Tulev’s four battle cruisers, two specters for each derelict. Geary’s hand twitched toward his comm controls.
The auxiliaries have been manufacturing replacement weapons for all they’re worth, but we’re still not fully up to strength on missiles. I should have told him to only use one per ship—

“Admiral,” Desjani said, “you can always count on Captain Tulev to do the job right without being told exactly how to do it. By using two missiles per target, he’s overkilling some of the derelicts but ensuring that every target is eliminated just as you ordered.”

This time he looked at her suspiciously. “How do you know . . . ? Never mind. You’re right. We’re even.”

“I’m not keeping count.”

“The hell you aren’t.” Geary let his hand complete the motion to his comm controls this time. “All units in the First Fleet, this is Admiral Geary. At time two zero, all units come up zero eight zero degrees, come starboard three five degrees, assume Formation Armadillo as attached to this transmission. Geary, out.”

The fleet would simultaneously swing back up and slightly to one side, aiming for the next jump point, while also compressing down into the Armadillo. It was the sort of maneuver involving hundreds of ships that humans would have required days to work out, but the fleet’s maneuvering systems could come up with a coordinated solution within seconds.

The questions began coming in less than a minute later. Geary squinted at the list of incoming transmissions. Almost every senior officer in the fleet was calling, and it didn’t take a genius to know what they were calling about.

Desjani glanced toward his comm inbox, gave him an “I told you so” look, then returned to studying her own display.

I thought I was done with this kind of thing,
Geary thought crossly.
Being open to advice and input is one thing. Having my decisions questioned is another.

His hand hovered over the comm controls, but something made him look over toward Desjani. She was giving him a sidelong look that spoke volumes.
Are you
sure
that you want to do that, Admiral?

Geary lowered his hand, thinking.
No one is challenging my right to command. Not anymore. At least, no one is doing that openly. They are expressing concern about my proposed course of action. These are good officers for the most part. They’ve followed me and done their jobs well. I need to respect their concerns instead of telling them to shut up and do what they’re told.
Taking a deep breath, he hit the fleet-broadcast command that would send his words to every commanding officer in the First Fleet.

“This is Admiral Geary. I understand that there is some concern regarding our currently ordered movements. Be assured that the purpose of the new formation is to confound any Syndic plans against us here at Simur. After ensuring that the Syndics cannot successfully attack us, we will analyze the situation here and determine just what the Syndic plans are. Then we will change our formation and take any measures required not only to frustrate those plans but also respond as appropriate. Geary, out.”