The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian

He looked over the work on the Armadillo she had done to supplement his. The Alliance formation would shrink in, forming a fairly tight ball, the assault transports, Invincible, and the auxiliaries in the center, battleships and battle cruisers spaced around the outer shell to reinforce tight lattices of smaller warships. “It looks good to me. Are you buying into this now?”

“Yes, sir.” She shrugged. “Whatever they’re up to, they won’t expect this. I’ve never seen it used.”

“Neither have I. It’s one hell of a big target. We’ll hold it long enough to figure out what to do next, and not a moment longer.” He watched Tulev’s battle cruisers, Leviathan, Dragon, Steadfast, and Valiant, sweep outward from the current formation, altering their track enough to come within missile range of the derelicts. The old ships must still have some maneuvering capability in order to stay directly in front of and that close to the jump exit, but whatever that capability was it wouldn’t be enough for those half wrecks to avoid missiles.

“Are there any crews aboard them?” Charban asked. Unnoticed, he had also come onto the bridge.

Desjani waved toward Lieutenant Castries, delegating the answer to her.

“It’s doubtful there are any crews on any of them, sir,” Castries said. “Automated systems would have easily handled the maneuvering to keep those old ships on station, and we’ve received no indications of any living crew aboard.”

“Thank you,” Charban said. “What if there are people on board?”

“If there are . . . Sir, if there is anyone aboard any of those ships, they will see the missiles coming in plenty of time to get into an escape pod.”

“Which would not do them much good if the Admiral’s estimate is right and those ships are rigged as bombs,” Rione pointed out.

Geary turned enough to give her a pointed look. I know she agreed with my decision to take out those derelicts. Sometimes that woman is contrary just for the sake of being contrary. “If the ships are rigged as bombs, anyone on board would know that. We can’t be responsible if they get caught in a trap they intended for us.”

He watched as missiles launched from Tulev’s four battle cruisers, two specters for each derelict. Geary’s hand twitched toward his comm controls. The auxiliaries have been manufacturing replacement weapons for all they’re worth, but we’re still not fully up to strength on missiles. I should have told him to only use one per ship—

“Admiral,” Desjani said, “you can always count on Captain Tulev to do the job right without being told exactly how to do it. By using two missiles per target, he’s overkilling some of the derelicts but ensuring that every target is eliminated just as you ordered.”

This time he looked at her suspiciously. “How do you know . . . ? Never mind. You’re right. We’re even.”

“I’m not keeping count.”

“The hell you aren’t.” Geary let his hand complete the motion to his comm controls this time. “All units in the First Fleet, this is Admiral Geary. At time two zero, all units come up zero eight zero degrees, come starboard three five degrees, assume Formation Armadillo as attached to this transmission. Geary, out.”

The fleet would simultaneously swing back up and slightly to one side, aiming for the next jump point, while also compressing down into the Armadillo. It was the sort of maneuver involving hundreds of ships that humans would have required days to work out, but the fleet’s maneuvering systems could come up with a coordinated solution within seconds.

The questions began coming in less than a minute later. Geary squinted at the list of incoming transmissions. Almost every senior officer in the fleet was calling, and it didn’t take a genius to know what they were calling about.

Desjani glanced toward his comm inbox, gave him an “I told you so” look, then returned to studying her own display.

I thought I was done with this kind of thing, Geary thought crossly. Being open to advice and input is one thing. Having my decisions questioned is another.

His hand hovered over the comm controls, but something made him look over toward Desjani. She was giving him a sidelong look that spoke volumes. Are you sure that you want to do that, Admiral?