“Eight minutes to contact.”
The Syndics had finished rolling, each ship turning within the formation to present its bows to the oncoming Alliance fleet so that the Syndic warships were now coasting sideways within their rectangular formation. The flat side of the Syndic rectangle was now positioned almost vertically “up” and “down,” facing the Alliance formation.
Geary pondered whether to try some fancy use of his ship’s firepower and decided against it. “All units employ weapons at your discretion. Primary targets are the capital ships. Maintain formation except to maneuver as necessary to avoid enemy fire. Permission granted to open fire when favorable engagement opportunities are presented.”
“Six minutes to contact.”
The Syndics were still settling into formation, doubtless worried about being caught in the middle of another maneuver when the Alliance fleet swept into range. Geary watched on his display as the two fleets rushed toward each other, the Alliance cup overlapping the back half of the Syndic formation. He had positioned his ships and positioned his fleet, given his commanders authority to fire, and now had nothing to do but watch as the Syndic warships and the Alliance fleet raced to contact.
“Enemy is firing,” the weapons watch reported unnecessarily as Geary’s display lit up with warnings. Grapeshot, concentrated on the points where some Alliance warships would soon be. It had been fired at extreme effective range. Geary hoped the commanders of those ships would use the very brief time available to alter course slightly to avoid the worst of the barrage. More warning symbols sprang to life. Syndic missiles.
On the visual display, spots of bright light began flaring as Syndic grapeshot struck Alliance shields. Geary could see his own ships firing, their data up to several seconds time-late for the farthest-off ships.
Captain Desjani had her eyes fixed on her own display. She highlighted a Syndic battleship. “That’s our target,” she informed her watch-standers. “Let’s hurt him.”
The sides of the Alliance cup were plunging into the Syndic rectangle, each Alliance ship only briefly exposed to enemy fire as it tore through, while the Syndic ships in those areas were battered by ship after ship. The lighter Syndic units were ripped apart under the repeated blows, flaring and dying around the stronger islands formed by the surviving Syndic capital ships.
Then the main strength of the Alliance fleet reached the Syndic formation.
After long, slowly passing minutes as the final huge distances were closed, the actual moments of fighting were so swift as to be disorienting. If not for the capability of the combat systems to target and fire at speeds far greater than humans could achieve, there probably would never be hits scored as two opposing fleets flashed by each other at decent fractions of the speed of light. Geary felt as if the moment of combat had come and gone between one blink and the next, Dauntless still quivering from the impacts of weapons on her shields and tallying the damage from an occasional hit that had made its way through a spot failure of the shields.
Behind him, the Syndic battleship targeted by Desjani had also taken fire from many other Alliance ships, including Daring, Terrible, and Victorious. Under that hail of fire, the mighty Syndic warship, an S-Class dreadnought, had first lost its shields then taken an onslaught of hits. Something had hit in the wrong place, and the Syndic battleship’s power core blew while some of the Alliance ships were still closing in.
They were too close when it happened. Geary stared at the display, seeing that the trailing battle cruiser in the Alliance formation, Terrible, had been shooting past close to the Syndic ship, battering it with close-range hell-lance fire. Terrible had already taken a lot of hits, substantially weakening her shields. The shock wave from the explosion of the Syndic ship reached out and slapped the Alliance battle cruiser like a huge hand, sending it tumbling. That alone would’ve been recoverable, but one of the surviving Syndic battle cruisers was too close and traveling on exactly the wrong trajectory. Even the ultrafast computers responsible for maneuvering ships to avoid collisions couldn’t avoid the result. Terrible and the Syndic ship collided as Geary watched in horror.
The collision, at a relative velocity of perhaps.06 light speed, or roughly eighteen thousand kilometers per second, turned both ships into a single titanic ball of heat, light, and scattered fragments that blossomed brilliantly against the dark of space, a human-made nebula that would briefly light the void of Ilion Star System.
A collective gasp of shock and dismay went up on the bridge of Dauntless. Geary heard a voice saying “Damn, damn, damn,” and realized it was his own. “May your ancestors protect you and the living stars welcome you,” he murmured to the dead crew of the Terrible.
Desjani, finally seeming shaken for the first time Geary recalled since they had escaped from the Syndic home system, called out commands to refocus her crew. “Damage report!”
“Minor hits on hull. No systems lost,” one of the watch-standers reported in a stunned voice.
Geary got a grip on himself as well, forcing himself to look away from the grave of the Terrible and evaluate the entire situation. There had been eight Syndic battleships and two battle cruisers in the part of the Syndic formation the Alliance fleet had met. Three of the battleships still survived, but all had taken damage. The Syndic light cruisers and HuKs around them had been wiped out, and only a few heavy cruisers still accompanied the surviving battleships. He took a deep breath, focusing on the front half of the Syndic force, which had turned hard to port and was accelerating away toward the jump point to Tavika. They obviously weren’t planning on fighting if they could possibly get away. “All units, come right one two zero degrees down one zero degrees and accelerate to point one five light at time two nine.” The huge cup pivoted again, turning to face the fleeing Syndics.
“We won’t get them,” Desjani grumbled.
“Yes, we will.” Geary pointed to Task Force Furious, slashing in from above and to the side of the Syndics. The Syndic maneuver, necessary as it was to reach the jump point, had turned their force toward Cresida’s formation and made an intercept of the leading Syndic elements possible.
Desjani didn’t so much grin as bare her teeth as Furious and the ships with her cut across the front of the Syndic formation, concentrating their fire on the lighter warships and stripping the remaining capital ships of their escorts. Diving below the Syndic formation with a speed advantage, Furious led the formation back up to hit the bottom of the Syndics. Another Syndic battleship reeled out of the formation, racked by secondary explosions.
Geary studied the situation, evaluating the geometry of the battle and reaching a decision as he watched the three damaged battleships that had survived the first Alliance pass falling farther and farther behind the rest of the Syndic formation. “Second Battleship Division. You are released from escort duties for the auxiliaries. Intercept and destroy the three Syndic battleships trailing their formation.”
Due to distance, the reply took almost a minute but made up for the delay in enthusiasm. “Second Battleship Division, aye! We’re on our way.”
Geary took another look at the battered Syndic formation still trying to accelerate away as Task Force Furious made repeated passes, curving up and down and side to side to keep hitting the front of the Syndics, whose own speed was falling off as undamaged ships reduced speed to stay with their damaged sisters. But Geary could see that the frequent passes were wearing down the shields of the ships in Task Force Furious. “All units, accelerate to point one eight light.” That might not be enough, though. He paused, hating to give the next order but seeing no alternative. “All units, general pursuit. Get those Syndics before they get away. We need to slow down those battleships.”