SIX

“LOOKS like a dozen battleships and battle cruisers,” Desjani remarked. She seemed happy at the prospect of a bigger battle. “Only five heavy cruisers, though, one light cruiser and nine Hunter-Killers. Why so few escorts?”

The answer to that question became apparent as Dauntless’s sensors evaluated what could be seen of the new Syndic force. “They’ve taken battle damage,” the combat systems watch reported, “and were probably sent here for repair and refit. Most of their escorts were probably destroyed in the battle where the bigger ships took damage.”

Geary nodded, his thoughts roving back toward Alliance space. Were these Syndic ships the victors of a battle in which the Alliance ships following Captain Falco had been annihilated? Or had they been mauled elsewhere by the portions of the fleet that had remained in Alliance space to guard it while most of the fleet had made the risky assault on the Syndic home system? “We need to find out where they got hurt and who did it,” Geary stated out loud.

“Prisoners should be able to tell us that,” Desjani noted cheerfully. “We can pick up some Syndic survival pods after the battle.” She gestured at the images of the newly arrived warships. “If they’re coming here for refit after a battle, they may have little or no expendable weaponry on board. No missiles, no grapeshot.”

“True,” Geary agreed. “Can they reach any of the munitions depots we’ve identified before our kinetic bombardment hits the ammunition supplies?”

Desjani ran some calculations, her hands flying over the controls. “Maybe. If they haul ass for the farthest munitions depots from us as soon as they spot us. But they’d have little time, and they’d need to get clear before our bombardment hit.”

Geary checked the solution. “And that would take them out away from our path to the hypernet gate. I hope they do make a run for that ammo dump.” He added up the total operational Syndic forces in system now. Sixteen battleships and a dozen battle cruisers, thirteen heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, and an even twenty HuKs. A formidable force if they managed to join up and fight together. Formidable on paper, at least. The Syndic flotilla they’d seen in the system upon arrival, if engaged in training, might not have full load-outs of weapons and probably had inexperienced crews. The newly arrived Syndic force was likely as experienced as any warships tended to be when tactics led to bloodbaths with heavy losses, but those ships were already battered and almost certainly low or completely out of expendable weaponry. And, even combined, there were far too few light escorts for the bigger ships.

“What do you think, sir?” Desjani asked.

Geary sat silent for a few moments, using his finger to trace paths through the display before him, depending on instincts born of long experience to estimate how his fleet and the two Syndic forces would move relative to each other. “It’s going to depend on what they do,” he finally decided. “If they’re stupid, they’ll individually rush to battle, and we’ll be able to overwhelm each of the flotillas with a very comfortable superiority in ships and firepower on our side.”

“Will they dare risk trying to join?” Desjani indicated the hypernet gate. “If they know we might be able to use that…”

Oh, hell. Desjani had remained focused on the primary issue, while Geary had gotten lost in possible alternatives. “No. You’re right. That newly arrived force will be told to reinforce the gate defenses.” Or to help destroy the gate. But what about the other flotilla? He traced more paths, then shook his head. “The other flotilla could do any number of things. But my guess is that once they see we’re headed for the gate, they’ll charge that way, too, or else they’ll be ordered there even though they’ll get to the gate too late to stop us.”

“We can handle that,” Desjani noted.

Her calm confidence was infectious. “Yeah.” Geary settled back in his seat. “I figure we’ve got a half hour window before anything else happens, then we’ll have new information coming in for hours as we start seeing the Syndics react to us. I’m going to grab a quick bite to eat.” Desjani nodded, her eyes on her own situation display. “Can I bring you anything?” Geary asked half-jokingly.

She tapped one pocket and grinned. “I’ve got ration bars.”

“You’re a better sailor than me.” Geary smiled in reply. He stood up, turning to see Co-President Rione still seated and eyeing him, her expression impossible to read. Geary nodded to her. “So far so good.”

“So far,” Rione echoed, but he couldn’t tell if her voice held humor or disdain.

MUCH of the action that unfolded over the following hours as the Alliance fleet fell deeper into the Sancere Star System was predictable. Nonmilitary shipping headed for nearby orbital ports or else began scattering into empty portions of the system in the hopes that the Alliance ships wouldn’t waste time hunting them down. Frantic activity erupted in the orbital shipyards as tugs began hauling away vital materials and a couple of the under-construction major warships, but there weren’t enough tugs to get all of the battleships and battle cruisers being built out of the way of the kinetic bombardment racing toward its targets. The two unfinished warships being pulled out of the path of the bombardment could be easily blown apart later when the fleet swept through that area, but Geary still had to admire the dedication of the Syndic work crews. They were trying, even though the efforts must have seemed as hopeless as they actually were.

Well behind the light announcing the arrival of the Alliance fleet came the kinetic bombardment, spreading out across the system, pummeling targets ever farther in-system, heading inexorably for the inner system crowded with industrial and military installations.

The Syndic force Geary had christened the Training Flotilla in his mind even though the official combat system designation was Syndic Force Alpha had turned toward the fifth world almost four hours before it had sighted Geary’s fleet, closing the distance purely by chance. When he finally saw it yaw around and up, he knew that course change had occurred five hours ago and realized he’d spent more than ten hours on the bridge. He nonetheless waited a little longer, until they could tell the Training Flotilla was moving to engage Task Force Furious. A check of the battle-battered Syndic Force Bravo showed it had, unfortunately, turned back toward the hypernet gate. Geary took a moment to pray the Syndics in that force would use the gate to flee the system and spare him the uncertainty of a battle as well as the worry that they would destroy the gate before he could reach it.

He rubbed his eyes wearily. It was still almost twenty-four more hours until the fleet reached the vicinity of the closest-in gas giant and altered course to sweep directly toward the hypernet gate. There were stimulants he could take to stay awake and alert for days, but even the best of those exacted a price, especially when quick decisions were needed under pressure. The human mind needed real sleep and wouldn’t be happy with anything else. Captain Desjani was napping in her seat, apparently comfortable enough and able to sleep through routine sounds on the bridge. But nothing was going to happen fast now. New information might come in, but it was clear that any developing threat would be seen hours before it was a danger. Geary tapped his communications controls. “All ships ensure crews are rotated and given opportunity for rest.” Geary stood, stretching, determined to provide a good example. “I’m going down to get some sleep,” he advised the watch-standers on the bridge. “Call me if anything unexpected happens. I want to know about any changes in the movements of the two Syndic flotillas.”