The Lost Fleet Beyond the Frontier Invincible

“Four opponents,” Geary corrected. “If the spider-wolves don’t just try to avoid action. I’m hoping the differences in temperament among the formation commanders will further confuse the bear-cows. Tulev is methodical and steady, while Badaya is quick and more daring.”

“And you are unpredictable,” Desjani said.

“Let’s hope so.”

Up ahead, the spider-wolf formation had begun breaking up, the intricate pattern shattering into shards that seemed to be re-forming into smaller whorls of ships. But then the smaller groupings also came apart, every spider-wolf ship racing off on a different vector. “Looks like they fight as individuals,” Desjani remarked.

With the spider-wolf ships turning, accelerating, and maneuvering, the human sensors could finally get a look at their propulsion systems. “Hot stuff,” Desjani said admiringly.

That sums it up pretty well, Geary thought. Baffles had spread outward, revealing impressive propulsion systems, and similar baffles at other points on the hulls had slid back to unmask powerful thrusters. The spider-wolf ships all seemed to have higher thrust-to-mass ratios than any human ships, giving them maneuverability close to that of the enigma ships. And they were all coming toward the bear-cow armada . . .

He clenched his jaw, thinking about how impossible it would be to avoid the spider-wolf ships swarming around the bear-cow formation. “They’d better stay clear of us because we can’t stay clear of them and attack.” That brought up something else, an omission that briefly appalled Geary as he thought of what might have happened. “All units, ensure your combat systems are set to not engage any spider-wolf ships unless specifically targeted in response to commands from me.”

The bear-cows, without the spider-wolf formation to concentrate on, had finally chosen another objective. The Kick formation was braking as fast as the bulk of their superbattleships allowed, while coming around and down toward the subformation led by Badaya. Captain Badaya’s ships in turn were rising to meet the bear-cows and pivoting so that a shield of warships remained between the bear-cow armada and the four auxiliaries with Badaya’s force.

The Kick sledgehammer spread out as it turned, two superbattleships anchoring each side while the other six remained near the center. “They’re not going to make this easy,” Desjani said.

Geary adjusted the course of his formation, aiming it toward one of the superbattleships on the side nearest to his force. “Immediate execute, all units in Gamma One One, reduce velocity to point zero eight light speed.” Dauntless and the ships with her pivoted, bringing their main propulsion units around to face in the direction the ships were going. Despite the inertial nullifiers, Geary felt pressure force him back into his seat as the propulsion units labored to brake the velocity of the warships.

The human subformations were all fairly close together despite the huge distances required for turns at the velocities they were traveling. With only about a light-minute separating the human forces, Geary could see what the others were doing almost as soon as it happened. Badaya had not yet changed course, still rising up straight toward an intercept with the bear-cows, while Tulev, like Geary, had steadied out, aiming for part of the enemy armada.

As his force rushed toward the bear-cow warships, Geary had a mental image of an enraged bull charging him, the horns and head made up of those colossal superbattleships. “Five minutes before we’re in range,” Desjani warned.

“Got it.” He waited, wanting the Kicks to see his course change too late to do anything about it. At three minutes to contact, the time felt right at last. “All units in Gamma One One, immediate execute turn starboard four degrees, up one degree. Engage enemy escorts as you enter range.”

The human formation turned slightly to the right and up, changing its vector from one aimed at the nearest superbattleship to a path that would clip the upper portion of the bear-cow formation about one-third of the way from the edge. The Kicks themselves had been braking as long as possible, trying to get down to engagement speed, but now were pivoting in the last moments before contact to place their heaviest armor and armament facing the human warships. The combined closing speed was down to point one eight light speed, well within human targeting parameters but just outside the bear-cow capabilities. “Too fast for them, but not by much,” Desjani commented in the moment before contact.

Specter missiles were leaping out to home on bear-cow warships, then in an instant of sequential shooting, hell lances were firing, grapeshot was hurled at the closest enemies, and, in a few cases, the lethal clouds of null fields engulfed portions of their targets.