The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Invincible (37 page)

“I have no idea of how things are going,” Geary muttered, looking at the rat’s-nest of intersecting and intertwining vectors, the reports of firing, the estimates of damage to enemy ships, and reports of damage to his own ships as the enigmas fought back.

“Keep an eye on this,” Desjani suggested, as
Dauntless
swung down and over in a dive tight enough to generate groans of protest from the inertial nullifiers and the ship’s structure. She pointed to a single number there. “Estimated number of enemy ships. As long as it keeps going down, we’re doing okay.”

His head jerked from momentum as
Dauntless
leveled out and surged after a third enigma warship, about the size of a heavy cruiser, which was dueling with a light cruiser and inflicting more damage than it was taking. “Tell engineering I need more thrust from main propulsion,” Desjani ordered her bridge watch-standers.

“Engineering says we’re already at one hundred and ten percent, Captain, and if we—”

“One hundred fifteen.
Now.
”

“Yes, Captain.”

Seconds later,
Dauntless
surged from a bit more acceleration, closing the gap just enough. “Get him,” Desjani ordered.

Specter missiles fired, racing toward the enigma ship, which belatedly realized that its battering of the light cruiser was not going unnoticed. The enigma tried to roll away, but two specters caught it, damaging its propulsion.
Dauntless
drew closer, hammering away with hell lances as the enigma ship fired frantically back.

“Our bow shields are almost down,” Lieutenant Castries called out.

“I see,” Desjani replied calmly. “They’ll hold long enough.”

One enigma shot got through, holing a storage compartment up forward, then the alien shields collapsed, and
Dauntless
poured a rain of hell-lance fire into the enemy.

Geary was barely aware of the enigma ship exploding under the punishment that
Dauntless
was inflicting; instead, he watched the whole situation and the number Desjani had pointed to. Even though their numbers were dwindling fast, the surviving enigma ships were breaking through and past the human warships.

“Thirty-five,” he said as the Alliance ships steadied out in stern chases after the enigmas who had gotten clear and were heading for their targets. A moment later, several specters fired at extreme range got hits. “Thirty-four.”

“Even the Syndics ought to be able to handle that,” Desjani said, smiling. The smile disappeared as she studied the nearby situation. “Tell engineering to ease back to one hundred percent on main propulsion. We’re going to have a long stern chase before we can catch up with any more enigmas.”

“The Syndics don’t have enough ships to cover all of the possible targets adequately,” Geary said. “Have we ever heard from any of the Syndics?”

Desjani looked back at her comm watch, who nodded. “Something came in five minutes ago,” the watch-stander reported. “Your standing instructions—”

“Are not to interrupt time-critical events for messages that are not time critical,” Desjani finished. “You did the right thing. Who is this message from?”

“It came from the flotilla that has been transiting from the inhabited planet to the docks near the gas giant. The nearest one to us. It’s addressed directly to Admiral Geary, Captain.”

“Send it to me and Captain Desjani,” Geary ordered.

An instant later, windows popped open before him and Desjani, showing a woman in Syndic uniform on the bridge of what was plainly a Syndic heavy cruiser. But her collar insignia were different than Syndic standard, and her words immediately contradicted the rest of her appearance. “This is Kommodor Marphissa on the heavy cruiser
Manticore
of the Midway Star System.”

“Kommodor Marphissa on the heavy cruiser
Manticore
,” Desjani repeated. “Military ranks and names for the ships? There have been a few changes around here. She didn’t call herself a Syndic, either, but she still looks like a Syndic.”

“I wonder what happened to CEO Kolani,” Geary said.

“Probably something that we’d be better off not knowing.” Desjani eyed the image of the kommodor suspiciously.

“Kolani struck me as being fiercely loyal to the Syndicate Worlds,” Geary said, “which would explain why this Kommodor Marphissa is now in command rather than Kolani.”

Kommodor Marphissa had paused for several seconds, as if anticipating that her audience would exchange comments, and now spoke with quiet assurance. “We welcome the assistance of the Alliance fleet under the command of Admiral Geary in defending the Midway Star System against
all
who threaten it.”

Her emphasis on one word was impossible to miss. “All?” Desjani demanded. “All? That ex-Syndic bitch is trying to rope us into fighting their battles against the Syndic government. What makes her think we’ll fall for that?”

“We are en route to the gas giant,” Marphissa continued. “We will continue on that track until we either encounter enemy forces or are ordered to assist you. However, I already have standing orders that the fleet of Admiral Geary is always welcome at Midway. For the people! This is Kommodor Marphissa. Out.”

Geary frowned in thought as the message ended. “Did you hear that?”

“Every word,” Desjani said, her own voice sharp.

“I meant the end, where she said ‘for the people.’ I’ve heard that a lot from Syndic authorities, and it always gets said without any emphasis or emotion. Just ‘for the people’ spoken quickly and without feeling, as if the phrase didn’t have any meaning.”

Desjani shrugged. “Is that surprising? You know it’s a joke. Nothing about the way the Syndicate Worlds has been and is run is really ‘for the people.’”

“But the way that Kommodor said it, she really seemed to mean it,” Geary insisted.

She replayed the end of the message, then nodded reluctantly. “All right. I see that. These people have revolted against the CEOs. Maybe they really are trying to be something other than Syndics. But the people at the top, Iceni and Drakon, are both former CEOs. Either they’ve changed their stripes, or this is all theater. I know where I’m placing my bets.”

Geary sat back, looking at his display, where hundreds of individual Alliance warships chased after thirty-four enigma warships, every ship on a different path but all of the vectors arcing down toward either the inner star system or the hypernet gate. None of the vectors displayed intercept points, reflecting the reality that his ships couldn’t catch those enigmas unless the enigmas altered their own courses or speeds. “Whoever these former Syndics are, they’d better fight smart. We can’t stop those enigmas. They’ll have to.”

Alerts came to life on his display, highlighting a dozen enigma ships.

“They launched bombardment projectiles,” Desjani said. “Aimed at the inhabited planet by the looks of the trajectories.” She clenched a fist and pounded her seat arm softly but firmly. “Neither we nor the Syndics can stop those.”

EIGHTEEN

DAUNTLESS
was moving at close to point two light speed herself now, hurtling through space at almost sixty thousand kilometers per second, but even that was too slow to catch the enigma ships ahead of them. The bombardment the enigmas had launched was also unreachable.

They could only sit, knowing that they would spend the next couple of days watching the bombardment heading for its target and that they couldn’t possibly stop it.

“Admiral, we’re receiving a message from the inhabited planet.”

Geary nodded despairingly. “They don’t know what’s coming at them yet. Let’s see what ‘President’ Iceni has to say.”

The image that appeared showed Iceni and a hard-looking man sitting behind an impressive desk of polished wood. He didn’t look like an assistant but rather an equal.

Iceni no longer wore the dark blue suit that was standard wear for Syndicate Worlds’ CEOs. Instead, her outfit suggested power and wealth without flaunting either. The man beside her wore an unfamiliar uniform that seemed to have been modified from Syndic designs. He didn’t need that uniform to project an image of being military, though. Geary would have pegged him as such no matter what that man had worn.

“This is President Iceni of the independent star system of Midway.” Iceni paused.

The man in uniform spoke crisply. “This is General Drakon, commanding officer of Midway’s ground forces.”

“We are happy to welcome the Alliance fleet back in our star system,” Iceni continued. “Especially considering current circumstances and previous agreements between us. We will do our utmost to defend our star system against invaders, and ask only that you assist us in that task until the people of Midway are once again secure. Kommodor Marphissa, our senior warship commander, has been sent orders to follow your directions unless they conflict with her obligations to defend this star system.

“Be aware that the battleship located at our main military dockyards has functional propulsion but not working shields or weapons at this time, so it cannot be counted upon to assist in the defense of this star system.

“This is President Iceni, for the people, out.”

Rione had appeared at Geary’s elbow, bending a questioning expression his way. “Previous agreements?”

He nodded, trying not to look guilty. “Previous agreements,” Geary said, as if that were natural and normal.

“Are we talking about more than the peace treaty made with the Syndicate Worlds’ government? Additional agreements?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

Both Desjani and Rione were giving him hard looks now. He was abruptly aware that he was pinned between them. “Admiral, did you reach any other agreements with the authorities here at Midway?”

He nodded. “I agreed to help defend them against the enigmas, which was consistent with the peace treaty.”

“That’s all?” Rione pressed. “That kommodor also seemed to expect more from us than the peace treaty would necessarily require.”

“Yes,” Desjani said. “She did.”

That was about as bad as it got, having Rione and Desjani agreeing with each other that he must have done something wrong.

“Did you say anything,” Rione asked, “that this President Iceni could have twisted into a claim that Black Jack would defend them against their own government?”

“No. I did
not
promise that.” They were watching him. “I did agree, for good reasons, not to publicly declare that I would not defend them against threats like that.”

Desjani glowered at him. “I should never let you talk to women alone.”

But Rione appeared thoughtful. “A vague commitment without real promises? I’m impressed, Admiral. We might be able to use that.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Desjani said. “You’ve got
her
approval! Does that tell you just how wrong you are?”

Geary held out a restraining hand. “Later. I need to reply to those two. By the time they hear back from us, they’ll have seen that we knocked out most of the enigma force but also that the enigma bombardment is already on its way toward them.”

“That planet has a lot of water and not much land,” Desjani commented, her expression gloomy once more. “Even if the enigma shots miss land targets, they’ll kick up some nasty wave action that will swamp all of those islands. I’d tell them to try to evacuate everybody they can to orbit and get the rest to whatever high ground exists. But knowing Syndic CEOs, they’ll probably just make sure they get clear so they can watch the citizens catch hell from some safe spot.”

He almost asked Desjani how she could predict the results of a widespread planetary bombardment so well, then caught himself in time. The Alliance had adopted such tactics, had tried to destroy enemy morale as well as civilian targets by indiscriminate bombardment. That strategy had never worked in the past, it hadn’t worked for the Alliance; but it had been followed for too long. And Desjani had been a fleet officer while those bombardments were conducted. It wasn’t something they talked about, but he knew it had happened. It would be best not to comment on that now.

Instead, Geary focused on the last part of Desjani’s assessment. “Iceni didn’t run the last time the enigmas attacked, remember? She stayed on the planet even though before we showed up it looked like the enigmas were going to walk all over this star system. That’s what she’s like. What do you think of that Drakon character?”

Desjani made an irritated gesture. “He looked real. I mean, not like a CEO.”

“That was my impression, too. He seems like a professional, like someone who wouldn’t abandon his post.”

“How did he get to be a CEO?”

“I don’t know,” Geary replied. “You’re right that we can’t forget that. But I’m going to assume the best of them because that can’t hurt right now. All we can do is watch whatever they do.”

Rione nodded somberly. “Will the planet be habitable after the bombardment hits?”

“That depends where the projectiles land,” Geary said. He took a deep breath, blew it out slowly, tapped his comm controls, and started speaking.

“This is Admiral Geary. We have done our best to eliminate the enigma force, but some ships have gotten past us, and some of those have launched a bombardment aimed at your inhabited planet. We will continue our pursuit of the enigma ships but cannot stop the incoming bombardment. I urge you to take any possible measures to ensure the safety of your people. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”

With nothing else to do after that but watch the paths of ships and bombardment projectiles heading toward their targets, Geary glumly studied the three Syndic or former Syndic flotillas, trying to figure out what he would do if he were the Syndic commander. “If they handled things right and coordinated the movements of those two heavy cruisers at the gas giant properly, they could force the enigmas to run a gauntlet to get to that battleship or the inhabited planet.”

Desjani shook her head. “In theory, sure. But they’re not that good.”

“They need to be that good if they’re going to survive. We can’t stay here. Whatever the people here have left to defend them after we leave has to be able to fight smart, or they’ll be overwhelmed.”

“You can’t teach them your ways of fighting,” Desjani objected. “Aside from the fact that we can’t hang around this star system for months, teaching smart fighting tactics to Syndics would not sit well with anybody.”

“It doesn’t look like they are Syndics anymore.”

“How do you judge that? Admiral, I agree anybody here has to fight better than the average Syndic CEO, but
you
can’t teach them. The fleet and the government would raise hell if Black Jack himself offered his secrets to people who still wear Syndic uniforms, even if they call themselves something else.”

Geary nodded, knowing that she was right but knowing that he was also right. How could he help the people here defend themselves?

That assumed that there would be anything left here worth defending, of course.

“Admiral?” General Charban had come onto the bridge and now pointed questioningly at the observer’s display. “What are the spider-wolf ships doing?”

He hadn’t bothered looking, not since the spider-wolves had swooped out of the fight. “They were above the plane of the star system and closer in to the star since they hadn’t headed back to engage the enigmas like we did,” Geary replied, searching his own display. “Now they’re— What in the name of the living stars are they doing?”

Desjani gave him an alarmed look, herself focusing on the spider-wolves’ position and movements. “They’re . . . aiming for an intercept with the enigma bombardment,” she said in disbelief. “According to our system, they can manage it since they were positioned closer to the inner star system than the enigma launch points and have better acceleration than we do.”

“Why?” Geary demanded. “What’s the point of intercepting a kinetic bombardment? The projectiles move too fast and are too small to get a decent fire control solution on them.”

“For us,” Desjani said, understanding growing in her eyes. “Admiral, the spider-wolf ships are faster than us and a lot more maneuverable. They were where they needed to be to intercept a bombardment launched from the enigma ships. If they can come in behind the kinetic projectiles, reducing the relative speed of the engagement, and maneuver into the right positions, our systems say that in theory they could at least score glancing hits and divert the paths of those rocks.”

Rione was staring ahead, openmouthed with surprise. “They’re intervening. They won’t help us fight the enigmas, they won’t help defend warships against the enigmas, but they are moving to try to defend our civilian population.”

“You say the spider-wolves were where they needed to be to manage this intercept?” Charban asked Desjani. “It seems they intended to be able to do that if necessary.”

Desjani looked frustrated. “Why do they have to be so damned ugly?”

“I am increasingly certain that they are asking the same thing of us,” Charban replied with a smile. “They know that the people here are those who are, or were, our enemies, and it impressed them that we were willing to fight to defend them. Perhaps that action by us decided the spider-wolves to take their action. As different as we are, this is a point at which our understandings meet.”

“It’s strange,” Geary said. “We seem to have a number of things in common with the spider-wolves, who are the most physically unlike us of the alien races we’ve encountered. The two other alien races, the enigmas and the bear-cows, may look a lot more like us but their mental processes are more alien than those of the spider-wolves.”

“No one ever promised that the universe would be easy to understand,” Charban said, “or that it would meet our expectations rather than challenging them.”

“Nineteen minutes to intercept of the spider-wolves with that bombardment,” Desjani said. “Look. The spider-wolf ships aren’t locked into formation anymore. They’re adjusting their vectors to come in behind different clusters of rocks launched by different enigma ships.”

The resigned and disheartened waiting of a short time before had been replaced by tension. Geary watched the tracks of the spider-wolf ships and the rocks converging, curves sliding steadily close to contact, wondering if even the spider-wolves could handle a maneuvering problem that difficult.

“Beautiful,” Desjani breathed, as the curving paths of the spider-wolf ships altered subtly. “Even their maneuvers are gorgeous.”

“Our systems estimate that the spider-wolf ships will be within weapons range in two minutes,” Lieutenant Yuon reported.

Geary checked the distance. Twelve light-minutes to where the spider-wolves and the kinetic bombardment would meet. Whatever the spider-wolves had accomplished might already be done, over before the human ships could even see the beginning.

The bridge had gone silent, everyone watching their displays. Geary realized that he was even breathing as quietly as he could, as if any sound could disrupt events occurring far distant from him. Human instincts, born of hunters in the ancient past and on a world unimaginably far away, still subconsciously dictating actions among the stars.

“How long until we know?” Rione asked, peering at her display, her voice, low as it was, still resounding to break the spell of silence on the bridge.

“Another three minutes until we might see something,” Lieutenant Yuon replied.

They were a very, very long three minutes, then several gasps sounded simultaneously as the first actions were seen. “Look at that!” Desjani said, her eyes lit with admiration. “They came in perfectly! Right behind their targets, zero deflection shots, getting the relative velocity as low as possible!”

“But they still only have a short firing window before those rocks pull away.” Geary watched shots going out from the spider-wolf ships, willing them to hit even though he knew hits or misses had happened over ten minutes ago.

“One, two, four, seven,” Lieutenant Yuon called out as the systems reported kinetic projectiles knocked off of their trajectories by hits from the spider-wolf weapons. “Twelve, nineteen, twenty-six, thirty-eight.”

Geary kept his eyes on the firing. Thirty-eight out of seventy-two rocks accounted for.

“Fifty-one,” Lieutenant Yuon reported. The hits were coming faster now, as the spider-wolves perfected their positioning and aim, but the rocks were also pulling steadily farther away and were rapidly going out of effective range. “Sixty, Sixty-four, Sixty-eight, Sixty-nine.”