“Not exactly,” Geary explained as he took his own seat. “In a little less than two hours our strike force will intercept the Syndic battleship heading toward the primary world. We do not intend engaging that battleship unless it attacks us first.”
“There won’t be a battle soon, then.” Costa seemed disappointed.
“I hope not. I need everything those battle cruisers have got for their fight with the flotilla, and battleships are very tough targets even when one has only three escorts with it.”
“I came up here during a break in negotiations in the hope of observing firsthand our brave sailors engaging the enemy,” Costa complained.
He glanced at Desjani, who was trying to look like she wasn’t aware of the conversation. “Senator, the strike force will be almost a light-hour distant from us when it does encounter the enemy. We won’t see what happens until an hour after it happens.”
Costa frowned. “Yes … of course … that goes without saying. Please notify me before the strike force encounters the Syndic flotilla. I assume the strike force will attack the center of the enemy, where their own battle cruisers are located.”
“No, Senator, we will not do that.”
The senator’s frown deepened. “You just said that battleships are tough targets. I understand that battle cruisers are not designed for one-on-one fights with battleships. Why wouldn’t our battle cruisers engage the Syndic battle cruisers?”
He took a long breath before replying. “Because aside from being outnumbered sixteen to nine in battle cruisers, plowing our strike force through the center of the Syndic flotilla would expose our battle cruisers and their escorts to fire from all sides from the battleships on the corners of the Syndic formation, as well as to fire from the overwhelming number of Syndic escorts. The sixty-one heavy cruisers in that flotilla would by themselves be a difficult challenge for the strike force.”
“Why isn’t our strike force stronger then?”
Geary took another look at Desjani, who seemed to be enjoying herself. Rione said that politicians and military officers stopped talking to each other. If this is an example of how the conversations went, I have no trouble understanding that. Every time he gave Costa any details, she asked for more without applying anything learned from the previous answers. Maybe the answer was to avoid any detail the senator could use for further attempts to question his own judgment. “That was my decision as fleet commander, Senator.”
After a long moment spent thinking that over, Costa stood up. “I’d better get back to the negotiations.”
After waiting until she left, Geary turned to Desjani. “You set me up.”
“I merely informed the senator that there were certain questions the fleet commander was best equipped to answer, sir.”
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll be sure to return the favor sometime.”
Desjani gave him a measuring look. “Are you worried? Duellos won’t go up the middle. A year ago, we would have done that. Not now.”
“What about Kattnig? If he sends Adroit through the middle of that Syndic flotilla, how many other ships will follow him?”
“Hopefully, not many. When did you last eat?”
“I … can’t remember.”
She pulled out some ration bars. “You can’t give your body sleep, but it needs food, too.”
Geary took the bars cautiously, remembering some of the horrible-tasting ones he had been forced to eat during the fleet’s return to Alliance space. “Bulgorin?”
“They’re pretty good. I’m not sure where they eat bulgorin, but it’s not bad.”
“What’s in it?”
“I have no idea, and no intention of looking. Just eat them. You need to be alert for at least the next twelve hours, so your body needs fuel.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Desjani narrowed her eyes at him. “If you’re not at your best, Admiral, the personnel and warships of this fleet will suffer.”
He couldn’t deny the truth of that, so Geary ate the bars, which did taste pretty good for ration bars. After that he tried to relax as he watched the Alliance and Syndicate Worlds’ formations moving on his display. The Syndic flotilla had ramped up its velocity to point one five light speed, or roughly forty-five thousand kilometers per second, yet with the scale pulled far out, the depictions of the ships barely seemed to be moving against the huge distances of a star system. But zooming in close presented images of warships that appeared totally motionless with nothing for the eye to measure their movement against.
The Syndics were coming in from an angle at the battleship, which had managed to plod up to point one two light as it headed toward the primary world. It should have been able to accelerate to a better velocity than that though. I wonder what modifications the Syndic Executive Council made to that warship over the years to enhance their own comfort, at the cost of important capabilities.
He must have inadvertently asked that out loud. Desjani answered immediately. “That might explain something. Our sensors estimate the mass of that battleship as significantly higher than comparable Syndic battleships, but the armor doesn’t appear to be any more massive. So there’s something very heavy inside it.”
“A citadel?”
“That’s what I’d guess. Something with very thick walls made of the densest material the Syndics could manage without dealing with radioactives. The Syndic leaders wanted someplace where they could fort up in an emergency.”
“Idiots,” Geary grumbled. “Making a battleship even slower so it can’t get away from pursuers, and doing that in the name of protecting themselves.”
The encounter of the strike force with the Syndic battleship was something of an anticlimax, the two formations tearing past each other outside weapons range without pause or action. But only two light-minutes beyond the battleship was the Syndic flotilla.
“Damn.” Geary clenched his fist in frustration. “The Syndics are holding to point one five light speed.”
Desjani made a helpless gesture. “They’re overtaking the battleship at an angle, so their speed relative to it is only point zero eight light speed. Plenty good for targeting.”
“But Duellos is going to have to brake hard, or he’ll cross their path at a combined velocity of point three light speed! What kind of hits could he get at that speed?”
Desjani passed the question to the combat-systems watch-stander, who shook her head. “Compensation for relativistic distortion would be inadequate, Admiral. Hit probabilities would be a maximum of five percent, and most likely lower.”
“He’s braking,” Desjani commented.
On his display, Geary saw the same information. An hour and five minutes ago Duellos had pivoted his ships so the main propulsion units pointed forward, then begun killing velocity as fast as the ships’ structures and inertial dampers could handle it.
“Duellos cut it close,” Desjani added in admiring tones. “He should get down to a decent combined velocity relative to the Syndics just in time to pivot his ships bow forward again for the firing pass.”
Geary had to admit that the familiar Syndic box formation had been shrewdly put together this time. The Syndic CEO had arrayed his ships in a shallow box, with the broad side facing forward. Each corner was anchored by three battleships. In the center, all sixteen battle cruisers formed a cluster in which their massed firepower would compensate for their lighter armor and shields. The sixty-one heavy cruisers were distributed to reinforce the already-formidable battleship groups in the corners as well as the battle cruisers in the center. Spread through the areas between the battleships and the battle cruisers were the swarms of light cruisers and Hunter-Killers. There simply weren’t any weak points that could be hammered by the battle cruisers in the Alliance strike force. “It looks like Duellos angled to hit one of the lower corners.”