The Lost Stars: Imperfect Sword (26 page)

Marphissa nodded as well. “That is an important consideration. I will be very close to
Midway
in any event, able to communicate with you with no meaningful delay. I will stay aboard
Manticore
. I want to take every measure to ensure that Happy Hua is badly surprised by our first engagement.” No one had mentioned that as a heavy cruiser,
Manticore
was far more vulnerable than a battleship like
Midway
. This was not a matter in which personal safety of the flotilla commander should be deciding the course of action.

“Hua will be aiming for
Midway
’s propulsion,” Bradamont added. “Above all, she wants to be sure that this battleship does not get away from her.”

“And I will be aiming for her battleship’s propulsion,” Mercia said with a laugh. “We’re both going to be chasing the other’s backside.”

“Both of you have a lot more experience with engaging battleships than I do,” Marphissa said. “Is there any other way to quickly cripple Happy Hua’s battleship? Besides trying to hit her main propulsion?”

Mercia shook her head. “In a one-on-one engagement? In one firing pass? Even if we had that Alliance fog weapon, we couldn’t do it except by aiming for the main propulsion. But we’ll never get a clean shot at her stern if both of us are trying to do that. Neither of us can outmaneuver the other. It will just be a succession of head-to-head firing passes, gradually wearing down both ships, and if Hua finds she is being worn down faster, she will have a chance to bolt and escape from us.”

“What can we do then?” Marphissa demanded.

“You said,” Bradamont commented to Mercia, “it couldn’t work
if
both battleships were trying for each other’s propulsion.”

“Yes, I did.” Mercia hunched forward, her hands moving to illustrate the movements of ships. “CEO Boucher thinks we’re bluffing. She’s coming toward us in what will be a head-to-head encounter. I can appear to fumble the angle of our bow at contact, which won’t strike CEO Boucher as odd because I’m just some junior executive or even worker who killed her betters and got promoted immediately to command a warship, right? That will seem to allow the Syndicate battleship a partial shot at my stern.
Midway
herself only fires a few weapons on that pass, as if that’s all we’ve got. We come out of it with some of our main propulsion apparently inoperative as a result of lucky hits. The external damage won’t be there, but there are plenty of internal reasons why main propulsion units can go off-line after taking fire, so it will still look plausible. We turn away and loop back toward the jump point for Midway Star System. It looks like we’re running. Our bluff has been called, and we’ve taken damage.” One of her hands swung in a wide turn.

“But we’ve lost some main propulsion, so the arc of our turn is wider than what Happy Hua’s ship can manage,” Mercia continued, her other hand moving in a tighter arc inside that of the first. “It’s hard to shift the vectors on so much mass. Happy Hua turns inside us and aims for our stern, coming in at about, hmmm, our stern quarter. Even if I try to turn bow on toward her, I’ll just be pivoting my own stern along the same path that Hua is taking. She’d still be able to hit my stern quarter as she passes.”

“That’s your most vulnerable point,” Bradamont said.

“Yes. This is all if we held our vector. But, we’re on that arc. We have a lot of momentum along a wider angle that our main propulsion is fighting as it keeps pushing us through the turn.” Mercia’s hands moved again. “If I completely kill our main propulsion, we stop turning along that arc at that rate. My ship changes speed relative to Hua’s ship, and immediately begins to swing out along a much wider arc. You see? Hua has set her firing pass to come close to our stern, but when I change my arc by killing my propulsion just before contact, it changes the situation. She will suddenly find her battleship passing,” Mercia said with a grin, as her hands moved past each other, “just in front of my bow, angled away from me, giving me a perfect shot at
her
stern quarter.”

Marphissa stared intently, running the maneuvers through her mind. “It could work.”

“It
will
work,” Mercia insisted. “We all deal with momentum. It’s a major factor in how we maneuver. But battleships deal with it most of all because of our mass relative to our main propulsion. Hua can’t appreciate that because she lacks the experience. Her automated maneuvering systems will provide a textbook-perfect firing run on my battleship, but because they deal only with what is, and not with all the possible options I might employ, they will not warn her what will happen if I make that change in my vector in the last minutes before contact, and, most importantly, they will not warn her that when she tries in those last moments to shift her own vector and her own battleship’s facing to counter my actions, she will be fighting not just me, but also all of the mass and existing momentum of her own battleship. She won’t be able to succeed.”

“You’re saying there’s no risk?” Marphissa asked skeptically. “That this is a sure thing?”

“Of course there is risk!” Mercia replied. “This is war, not a game or simulation where we can order the umpire to make things come out as we please. Something could go wrong.
Midway
might take real, significant damage during the first engagement if the Syndicate gets lucky. Happy Hua could do something so stupid it is smart and totally messes up our plan. One of the sub-CEOs or executives on Happy Hua’s ship might spot the risk and warn her, and Happy Hua might listen to them, as unlikely as that is. I might misjudge the exact second to kill my main propulsion and miss my shot at Happy Hua’s battleship, or Worker Gilligan might short out all of my controls just as I need them.”

“I actually had a worker named Gilligan once,” Marphissa said. “He didn’t cause any disasters, but that was probably because everyone watched him constantly, expecting him to do something like that. Honore? What do you think?”

“I think it’s brilliant,” Bradamont said. “What are your cruisers and HuKs going to do while the battleships smash at each other on that first pass?”

Marphissa pondered that for a few seconds. “Happy Hua will concentrate her fire on
Midway
. All of her ships will be told to target our battleship as well because she knows that is by far the most important target, and she wants to inflict as much damage as possible before
Midway
runs for safety as she expects her to. Agreed? That should give us shots at taking out some of her cruisers and HuKs while they are firing on
Midway
.”

“
Midway
should fire back at the battleship on that first pass, though,” Bradamont said. “Since you’ll be using only the few weapons you intend to employ to further the impression that
Midway
is still barely operational. Seeing the few shots
Midway
fires bouncing off her battleship’s shields will enhance CEO Boucher’s feelings of her own invincibility this time around.”

“Yes,” Kapitan Mercia agreed, nodding. “That’s a good idea.”

“How did a sub-CEO with your kind of brains survive under the Syndicate?” Marphissa asked.

Mercia smiled. “There were a few times I nearly didn’t. But the supervisors who were unhappy with me never got around to reporting it.”

“Accidents?” Marphissa asked.

“Yes. It was sad.”

Bradamont eyed the two of them. “I never know when you people are joking.”

Marphissa didn’t reply, not wanting to discuss realities of Syndicate life that Bradamont found either incomprehensible or abhorrent. Instead, she went back to discussing the upcoming engagement. “Happy Hua’s flotilla is twenty-six light-minutes away and coming on fast on a direct intercept. We’re both going about point two light, so that would be an hour’s travel time left before contact. We’ll start braking in fifteen minutes. I want us down to point zero eight light speed when we encounter the Syndicate flotilla.”

“Point zero eight?” Mercia questioned. “You’re assuming that Happy Hua won’t brake?”

“I don’t think she will brake
enough
,” Marphissa said. “She gained some experience in our last fight. She knows she has to keep her relative velocity from being too fast when we meet or she won’t be able to hit us, and Happy Hua wants to hit us. But she’s also still inexperienced enough to think that going faster is better. So she’ll compromise and do neither well enough. My guess is that in this encounter she will get down a lot closer to point one light, but not all the way.”

“That’s a reasonable guess,” Bradamont said. “CEO Boucher probably also still underestimates how hard it is to make a battleship’s mass do what you want in a hurry. The Alliance usually tries to assign battleship commands to officers with a lot of previous experience on battleships, but occasionally they get someone without that experience who tries to make a battleship dance like a battle cruiser. It’s not pretty.”

Mercia eyed her. “You’re telling us about Alliance policies? How your fleet does things?”

“That’s one of the reasons Admiral Geary assigned me to Midway Star System,” Bradamont said.

“So I was told, but . . . yes, that’s a valid observation. CEO Boucher probably will underestimate the difficulty of making rapid changes to her battleship’s facing and vector. I saw that in a lot of new commanders.”

“All right,” Marphissa said, sensing the tension that had become apparent between Mercia and Bradamont. “Have we forgotten anything?”

“What will your formation be?” Bradamont asked.

“Standard box— Hell.” Marphissa laughed at herself. “The problem with defaults is that they become habitual. I think . . . Modified Diamond.
Midway
at the point.”

“At the point?” Mercia asked, surprised. “That is an unconventional arrangement. Probably not the best, either.”

“I know,” Marphissa said. “That’s why I think it would work. The Syndicate thinks we’re young fools, out of our depth. Why not look a little clumsy? It won’t hurt us. It’s not the best arrangement for protecting
Midway
, but since we’re only facing one other battleship, it won’t make any difference in terms of how much fire
Midway
takes.”

“True,” Mercia conceded, her eyes intent.

“Then we will prepare to execute the plan we discussed. I will call the vectors as we approach the Syndicate flotilla, but you, Kapitan Mercia, will independently adjust your final heading as you feel best to give the Syndicate what they think is a shot at your main propulsion. After the first engagement, I want a recommendation from you, Kapitan, on how wide to have
Midway
turn.”

Mercia nodded. “You will get it.”

“Are you comfortable with Captain Bradamont’s offering advice when she feels appropriate? She is discreet.”

“Then . . . yes, Kommodor.”

“I may not have much to offer in this engagement,” Bradamont said. “I have a lot less experience with battleship maneuvering than Kapitan Mercia, and that is what will count.”

“But you have already helped us plan the engagement,” Marphissa said. “Is there anything else?”

Mercia cleared her throat. “Kommodor, may I speak with you privately?”

Marphissa glanced at Bradamont, who nodded to her without any sign of discomfort, and left the conference room on the battleship.

Once they were alone, Freya Mercia gave Marphissa a serious look. “I wanted to be certain that something was out in the open. This is not a conversation that would have been held under the Syndicate, and so the matter might have festered and created problems.”

“What matter is this we must discuss?” Marphissa asked, trying to mask her tension. Mercia was older than her, had more experience with mobile forces, and had more experience in command positions. Was the old veteran about to attempt to slap down the young pup?

“I have been around awhile longer than you,” Mercia began, apparently oblivious to the way her words caused Marphissa to shift into a defensive posture. “That has the potential for problems which I know would concern me if I were in your place. However, I wanted you to know that I accept my role as your subordinate. I will not conspire against you in the Syndicate way because from all I have seen and heard, you are not operating in the Syndicate way. Just now, we discussed what to do, and you listened, and you asked questions, then you decided. I know I am respected. That will take some getting used to after my years with the Syndicate, but I am grateful for the chance to use my skills and experience for those who value what I can offer.”

Mercia waved around her. “I have command of a battleship, and I am fighting for a good cause. I have no complaints, Kommodor. I will support you and comply with your orders. I did not want you to have worries on those counts.”

“Thank you,” Marphissa said. “I did have some concerns. Was it obvious?”

“No. You actually hid it very well.”

“Do you understand that you can trust Honore Bradamont? She is Alliance, but to her, we are no longer Syndicate.”

“Syndics,”
Mercia said with a twist of her lips. “I admit I am having some trouble at times seeing an Alliance officer on my bridge. But, yes, her insights are useful, and she admits when she knows less on a matter than one of us. She does not act like a conqueror, which I had anticipated from an Alliance battle cruiser commander. Her lack of arrogance and superiority is unexpected and welcome.”

“I trust Captain Bradamont,” Marphissa said. “In time, I hope you will trust her as fully. How is your crew handling having her around?”

“Oh, that!” Mercia rolled her eyes. “It has been . . . interesting. But they understand that any display of hostility or aggression toward her will result in serious consequences. She has bodyguards as well, of course, to keep her safe from the crew.”

“At first, it was like that on
Manticore
,” Marphissa said. “Now Bradamont is seen by the specialists as one of us. She is Black Jack’s.”

“The one who destroyed my flotilla?” Mercia asked. “But also the one who captured us instead of destroying our escape pods.”

“And it was Bradamont who suggested getting you all from the Alliance, bringing you back to us.” Marphissa shook her head as memories rushed in. “We wouldn’t have made it back, made it through Indras Star System, without her advice to me. I called all the maneuvers, but Bradamont told me how I should use the escorts to protect the freighters. I had never commanded such an operation.”