He wasn’t trying anything fancy that would require a lot of maneuvering. The subformations would be concentrated into loose, larger formations, which would sweep directly over the largest Syndic formation, the Casualty Flotilla, then onward to hit the less-badly damaged warships trying to form into their own flotilla, then soon afterward the two battleships racing outward from the guard force. “How’s this look to you?” he asked Desjani.
She studied it, face intent. “A series of fast firing runs over the Casualty Flotilla to knock out the weapons on the Syndic warships that have any working? You don’t want to destroy them right away?”
“Not until our auxiliaries are done looting their repair ships. I don’t want to risk debris from destroyed warships messing up our pillaging operation. We can finish off everything when we pull away from the Casualty Flotilla. We’ll have four of our battleships with the auxiliaries then.”
Desjani nodded. “Even the Third Battleship Division should be able to handle destroying enemy ships with all of their systems knocked out. But you need to leave a couple of more battleships or battle cruisers with the formation containing the auxiliaries.”
“Why? I know
Warrior
has been beat to hell again, but
Orion
and
Majestic
can put up a fight and
Conqueror
is in good shape. I’m sticking
Conqueror
with them since she’s part of the same battleship division. Those four battleships should be able to handle anything that manages to get through the rest of the fleet.”
Desjani kept her expression controlled and her voice bland. “That’s true, if
Orion
,
Majestic
, and
Conqueror
do not have
difficulties
engaging the enemy.”
Meaning that their commanding officers might find reasons to avoid battle. He had to admit that Desjani’s diplomatically worded statement was justified. Captain Casia of
Conqueror
hadn’t inspired any confidence. Commander Yin, acting commander of
Orion
since Captain Numos had been relieved of command and placed under arrest, made Casia look like a paragon of a combat officer by comparison. And
Majestic
’s acting commander, who had also gotten his job when his former captain (Numos’s ally Captain Faresa) had been relieved for cause, was such a nonentity that Geary had trouble remembering the man’s face. In a perfect world he would have replaced all of them by now, but a fleet fleeing for its life through enemy territory was far from a perfect world, especially when the fleet’s politics left Geary’s hold on command tenuous enough that he couldn’t afford to be seen acting too high-handedly. Some officers might work against him more vigorously as a result, and other officers would believe such behavior meant Geary was on his way to accepting the role of the dictator they either hoped or feared he would become.
His frown deepened. “I hate to waste a couple of more capital ships just because those three battleships might encounter problems.”
“If the wreck of
Audacious
does hold prisoners who need to be liberated,” Desjani pointed out,
“they’ll need all the shuttles they can get to transfer them off, and ships nearby big enough to hold the liberated prisoners at least temporarily.”
“Good point.” But that still left the problem of two capital-ship commanders who wouldn’t be thrilled to be told to stay back with the auxiliaries. Who might find ways to avoid following his orders, and if they were doing that to race into battle, most of their fellow commanders wouldn’t condemn them for it or approve of Geary raising hell with them for abandoning their escort duty.
The doctrine of all-out attack was still too thoroughly engrained in the fleet. He glanced back to where Co-President Rione was sitting, watching events with an unreadable expression. “Madam Co-President, I’d appreciate your advice on how to phrase some orders—”
“I heard you.” Rione broke in. “Thank you for deigning to include me in your discussions.” She paused just long enough for that to sink in. “You’re sending these ships to ensure our own people, recently taken prisoner, are liberated and brought to safety. If any Syndic warships get through to the space near what’s left of
Audacious
, they could disrupt that action, or even cause some of those prisoners to be killed. What more justification do you need to offer? What more honorable task can a ship be assigned than ensuring our people are safely recovered?”
Geary nodded. “Very well put, Madam Co-President.” That left the question of who to send. He ran his eyes across the display, trying to decide who could be trusted and who wouldn’t take exaggerated offense at what Rione had pointed out was indeed a highly honorable assignment even if it wasn’t in the front of the engagement. He’d already heard indirectly that some officers were regarded as his favorites, and it wouldn’t do to reinforce that impression even if it was in many ways true. He did like certain commanding officers because they were capable as well as aggressive, smart as well as brave, loyal to their duties to the Alliance rather than to political games meant to advance their careers. Captain Cresida, for example . . .
Whose battle cruiser
Furious
along with
Implacable
were the last surviving ships of the Fifth Battle Cruiser Division. And he needed two ships. “I’ll send Cresida. Her ship and
Implacable
.”
Desjani’s eyebrows shot up, then hastily lowered again. “She’s used to being in the thick of battle.”
“Exactly. She’s proven her ability to carry out this task.”
“I’m glad I’m not the one who’ll be telling her that, sir,” Desjani responded dryly.
“We’re almost a light-minute away from
Furious
now. That ought to be outside the blast radius,”
Geary noted. Desjani grinned.
He changed the plan, let Desjani see it again for a sanity check, then transmitted the changes. On the heels of that, he called
Furious
. “Captain Cresida, I’m giving
Furious
and
Implacable
the most important job in the fleet. I want you to make sure our imprisoned personnel, and our auxiliaries, are well protected.”
Geary barely heard Desjani’s low murmur. “Tell her that you’re counting on her.” She saw his reaction. “It’s true. Say it. Sir.”
The exchange had taken only a couple of seconds. Geary continued the same transmission. “I’m counting on you, Captain Cresida.” It felt absolutely shameless to use that on Cresida. But it
was
true. Desjani was right about that.
Cresida’s reply took a little over two minutes, given the distance between her ship and
Dauntless
. To Geary’s surprise, Cresida sounded not angry but both pleased and determined.
“Yes, sir.
Furious
and
Implacable
won’t let our imprisoned comrades down, and won’t let you down.”
Geary stole a glance at Desjani, who was apparently absorbed in studying her display. Desjani had been giving advice that way almost from the first time he’d met her, Geary realized. Maybe she believed the living stars themselves had sent him, but if she thought there was something Geary needed to know, she’d tell him and keep repeating it until he paid attention. Just as importantly, Desjani wasn’t blindly accepting his plans, instead telling him what she thought needed to be changed. He wondered now if she ever had shown total acceptance of his plans, or if her unquestioning faith in his mission had never gotten in the way of telling him when she thought something should be done differently. “Thank you, Captain Desjani.”
She glanced his way and nodded with a slight smile. “Captain Cresida needs to be handled just so, sir.”
“Just keep giving me advice when I need it.”
This time Desjani looked surprised at the statement. “That’s my job, sir. Though if I may say so, you take it much better than Admiral Bloch ever did.”
He checked the time. Still no sign of the Syndic pursuit force and still over an hour left before the Syndic Casualty Flotilla was overhauled. This was going to be a long day no matter what happened.
“Captain!” a watch-stander called to Desjani. “We’ve spotted escape pods leaving the repair ships in the Casualty Flotilla.”
“What?” Geary thought he and Desjani had said it simultaneously. But the display was indeed showing a swarm of escape pods leaving the Syndic repair ships. “They’re punching out of their ships this early?”
Desjani was frowning, apparently trying to figure out what kind of Syndic trick this was. “Did they figure out how badly we need what’s in the bunkers on those repair ships? Are they going to blow up all of them before we even get within a couple of light-minutes?” she wondered.
Before Geary could answer, his internal communications circuit buzzed urgently. Lieutenant Iger in the intelligence section. It was very unusual to hear from him during a battle since his work dealt with longer-term collection and analysis, everything of tactical importance being automatically shown on the displays before Geary and other commanders. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
Iger’s head within the small pop-up window inclined diffidently. “Sorry to bother you during an action, sir, but—”
“Just tell me, Lieutenant. What is it?”
The intelligence officer looked startled, then spoke quickly. “We’ve confirmed these are standard Syndic repair ships.”
Geary waited, but like the engineers on his own auxiliaries, the intelligence officer apparently expected him to just know things sometimes. “Meaning what? Why are they abandoning ship so early?”
“Because they’re not military, sir.”
“They’re not military?”
Desjani, overhearing, gave Geary a surprised look.
“Yes, sir,” Iger responded. “Syndic major logistics support isn’t handled by combat arms. It’s handled by a different directorate and contracted out to corporations. Our fleet never sees repair ships like these because they’re never supposed to go where they can encounter Alliance warships.”
“They’re civilian?” Geary demanded.
“Yes, sir. Military-related civilian, of course. Totally legitimate targets. But no military personnel aboard, no combat training, no defenses. That’s why they’re abandoning ship. They and their corporations aren’t paid to engage in combat. From what we know, the crews would get in trouble if their actions somehow caused us to inflict more damage on those repair ships. So they’re punching out now.”
“Wait a minute. They want to ensure as little damage as possible is done to those repair ships?”
Iger nodded vigorously. “We know that?”
“Yes, sir. From captured records and prisoner interrogations. Most Syndic fleet personnel don’t like the civilian contract people because they don’t think they get proper support from them. The civilian contractors are also paid considerably more, which is probably the real main point of contention as far as Syndic military personnel are concerned. ”
“I’ll be damned.” Geary thought for a moment. “Then they won’t have rigged any traps on those repair ships?”
Iger hesitated, clearly thinking, looked sideways as someone else in the intelligence section spoke to him, then nodded again. “I’d regard that as very unlikely, sir. They’d lose their jobs if their corporations thought they had caused more damage to those ships. It’s safe to assume they’ve shut down all systems and left the repair ships to coast in the hope that we’ll ignore them or just toss a few shots at them as we cruise past.”
“They’re going to be disappointed. Thanks, Lieutenant. Excellent work by you and your people.”
As Lieutenant Iger’s image vanished, Geary turned to speak to both Desjani and Rione, then repeated what the intelligence officer had said. “You’ve never seen these sorts of repair ships?”
he asked Desjani.
She shook her head. “Only in briefing documents on Syndic ship types. No, I’ve never encountered one and don’t think I ever ran a simulation with one in it, either.”
Turning back to Rione, Geary addressed her. “Does what Lieutenant Iger said make sense to you?”
“As a civilian?” she asked sardonically.
“Yes.” More importantly, as a civilian after a century of war. Geary’s last experience with other civilians had been almost one hundred years ago, before the war with the Syndicate Worlds began. He’d seen what a century of war had done to the officers and sailors of the fleet, and wondered how it had changed civilians.
Rione gazed at him, seeming to guess the reasons for his question. “Certainly. As much as they’d like their military forces to triumph, as much as they’ve grown to hate the enemy, civilians are still not prepared to stand up to battle. Even if some individuals in those crews were ready to resist, they would have been carried away by the mass of their fellows who only wanted to avoid dying.” Rione caught the expression on Desjani’s face. “They’re
not
cowards, ” she added in a very cold voice. “Someone who isn’t trained or mentally toughened for combat isn’t going to stand and fight the way military fighting forces are. They’re surely smart enough to know they don’t stand a chance against us.”
Desjani shrugged, her eyes on Geary. “Neither do those Syndic warships heading to intercept this fleet.”
But Geary shook his head at her. “Staying with those ships when they lack any combat training or capability wouldn’t accomplish anything. You or I would at least ensure they weren’t captured intact if we had any suspicion the enemy intended doing that, but dying to no purpose wouldn’t serve our cause.” He jerked his chin toward the display, which showed the two Syndic battleships charging toward them, still hours away from contact. “The Syndic commander is throwing away those ships and crews because he or she can, because those crews will follow senseless orders, even though it’s a total waste. May the living stars help me if I ever decide to waste lives like that just because I can.”
Desjani frowned slightly, her eyes averted as she thought. It had to be a difficult concept for someone raised and trained to believe that honor demanded fighting to the death. For someone who already knew she would do that if necessary. But then she had made that commitment before joining the fleet and lived with it since then. “Yes, sir,” she responded eventually. “I see your point. We expect obedience from those under us, and in return they deserve respect for their willingness to follow orders to the death.”