Sandy was reclining in her high gee egg, under the pressure of three gees acceleration when that development blew up in their face. She would have loved to see the reaction on a few faces.
“I guess that’s one way to handle a change of command,” Van drawled.
“Sure saves on the retirement package,” Mondi quipped.
“Pity the poor dumb bastards that crewed that Enlightened One’s flagship,” Penny observed.
“I agree with all of you,” Sandy said. “Now, how does this impact my developing battle?”
“I think we wait and see,” Van said.
Sandy suspected a lot of her staff would have shrugged at that, but, at three gees, it risked a sprained back.
For the next hour, they watched as the alien force talked through the transfer of command. There was a whole lot of talking, and while they talked, some ships continued to fall back. Mimzy thought there was an argument inserted in the command debate about pulling the fleet back. Some seemed to want one measurement. Others wanted twice that.
“I’d guess that we’re talking about 50,000 kilometers verses 100,000. I don’t really have a frame of reference. My suspicion is based on some reference to what I think is the range of their lasers. We think that’s about 100,000 kilometers.”
“Thank you, Mimzy,” Sandy said. “Your guess is likely better than any one of us here.”
“You are welcome,” the computer said, sounding quite proud.
Since when did computers start preening when a human thanked them?
An hour and a half later, the Victory finished her acceleration toward the jump and flipped to decelerate at a bit less than 3.4 gees. It would lead the rest of the fleet through Alpha Jump Point at as close to 50,000 klicks per hour as possible.
On the other side of the jump, the aliens were still debating. A few had returned to the 10,000-klick line. More had flipped ship and were decelerating at one gee, headed for a distance of 50,000 klicks. A few were still leisurely accelerating away from the jump, some at as little as half a gee, enjoying the pleasure of weight and likely taking showers and attending to other necessities.
There seemed to be three contenders for the throne, so to speak. Mimzy had no guess as to the content of those discussions. Few participated in them, maybe ten ships out of the surviving 115 cruisers. While it went on, each skipper seemed to be a lord unto himself.
Sandy liked matters that way, and hoped they wouldn’t change too much for the remaining hour of her approach run in.
Meanwhile, she had the second half of a battle to plan. She discussed the situation with Admiral Shoalter, Commodore Taussig and the two other squadron commanders.
“I intend to flip ship and go through the jump bow first at as close to 50,000 klicks as we can. It doesn’t look like they have much structure, so I can’t give you much of a fire plan. No captain can do very wrong who picks a target and lays eight or twelve lasers on it. I don’t think any of these ships can take a full battery salvo from fore or aft.”
She paused. It was hard to read people who were reclining in an egg and under nearly three and a half times their weight. Even facial expressions were drawn.
“We have formed up at 1500 meters interval. It’s damn close for maneuvering, but it puts us through the jump at two second intervals. To reduce the prospects of collisions, I will set an acceleration of only one gee on the other side. BatRon 17 will also steer upwards at the two o’clock position. BatRon 7, you take the six. BatRon 5, you have the ten o’clock angle. Immediately target the ships still holding to the ten-thousand-kilometer line. Once they’re gone, aim for those around the fifty thousand klick distance, then those farthest out. There is no doubt that we will be in range of their lasers from the moment we jump into that system. But then, even the 20-inch guns of BatRon 5 will have plenty of targets.” That drew a chuckle despite these weighty circumstances.
“Evasion Plan 3 is our initial jink scheme. You may take it higher if things get too lively for you. Any questions?”
“Just a plea,” the commodore for BatRon 5 said, his Spanish accent strong under the weight. “You lead squadrons, please leave some targets for us. Remember, we’ll be over thirty seconds behind you.”
That drew a labored laugh, and the central command net closed down to give Admiral Shoalter time to give his own brief to the squadron commanders and them time to brief the skippers of their battlecruisers.
An hour later, the USS Victory carried Grand Admiral Sandy Santiago into the first battle of choice in her long career.