Raven Stratagem (The Machineries of Empire, #2)(20)

“Put her on,” Jedao said.

“General,” Kavinte said, “we got a reaction when our leading element tripped past forty-nine Hafn ayyan.” She gave the hexarchate distance conversion. A databurst accompanied the transmission with further details. “No attack still, but look at this—”

The close-up scan data showed the Hafn outrider positions relative to each other, stretched into the shape of a curving dish with Tactical Five’s axis of advance pointed straight at its center. Khiruev wasn’t a scan specialist, but she could tell that the formants were better defined than before, giving them a better idea of the individual outriders’ locations. Just as interestingly, Tactical Five had intercepted signals from a number of outriders. It didn’t take much triangulation to deduce the region of space those signals were aimed at.

“Forward transmissions to Intelligence,” Jedao said, “although I don’t expect fast results. Commander Kavinte, I have another formation for you. Try Every Mirror Is a Flatterer and approach the outrider dish’s focal point.”

“Sir,” Khiruev said, “that will allow the Hafn units to focus fire on Tactical Five. If they have real guns”—Hafn units had respectable invariant weaponry, last she’d checked—“it could get ugly.”

“I understand the concern,” Jedao said, “but here’s the thing. You notice how they’ve been moving?” He played back some of the observations. “I don’t think those outriders are human. I think they’re geese.”

Khiruev caught Janaia’s eye when Jedao returned his attention to the scan record. Is he out of his mind? Janaia mouthed. Khiruev could only shrug.

“You have your orders, Commander Kavinte,” Jedao said. “If I’m right, the geese will let down their guard when they see the configuration. You’ll have ample opportunity to blast holes in them. I’m as much for that as the next soldier, but capture a few intact if you can. Give our engineers something to take apart.”

“Acknowledged, sir,” Kavinte said in a tone of dour resignation.

Jedao cocked his head at Khiruev. “You’re convinced I’ve lost it.”

Or getting rid of a commander who annoyed him, but Khiruev couldn’t express that out loud. “If it’s not a trap, then I don’t know what it is,” Khiruev said. “Although it’s possible that their scan has short range because it’s operating in hostile calendrical terrain.” The Hafn weapons were all fired at short range in previous engagements, but they’d discussed this before and she didn’t need to remind Jedao of it now. “Perhaps they’re attempting to deceive us as to their capabilities.” She kept an eye on Tactical Five’s movements in the subdisplay. “No one with two brain cells is going to fall for Every Mirror.”

Every Mirror Was a Flatterer was an illusion generator specifically affecting the swarm’s scan formants rather than direct visuals, which meant it wasn’t even useful for impressing civilians. The Kel never bothered with it in battle because the illusion only was visible from such a short distance that any enemy with halfway decent scan would already have spotted you first. No one would mistake them for Hafn at this point.

“Didn’t say the outriders were stupid,” Jedao said. “I said they were geese. Excellent sentries, geese, for what they are. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You’ve clearly never had to beat off an offended gander with a stick.” He leaned forward. “There we go, that’s the last pivot moving into place.”

The Hafn outriders, faced with what were apparently more Hafn outriders, began adjusting themselves to form a greater—Khiruev couldn’t help thinking of it as a flock.

“It makes no sense, sir,” Janaia said. “Why use rather stupid drones for your advance warning system?”

Tactical Five knew an advantageous situation when it met one. The subdisplays were suddenly crowded with reports of fire. Impossible to tell whether Jedao’s request for captive outriders would be honored amid that mess of hellfire and kinetics.

“The Andan made no mention of Hafn servitors,” Khiruev said, “only pre-sentients. Maybe the Hafn lag in that area of technology.”

“If they could get into the Fortress of Scattered Needles,” Jedao said, “stealing some invariant technology wouldn’t have been difficult.” His mouth curled sardonically. “For all we know, there’s some peculiar cultural prejudice at work.”

Commander Kavinte issued terse periodic reports. Janaia’s eyes had a decidedly longing look at being left out of the shooting. Her executive officer’s expression was unreadable, but that was Muris for you. He could be counted on to be businesslike about everything. The operation had so overwhelmed the outriders that Khiruev expected something with long, serrated teeth to materialize behind her shoulder as a way of ensuring cosmic justice.

Eventually Kavinte said, “Sir, most of the outriders blew themselves up rather than be captured. We’ll send you our reports when we have a better analysis. But the scoutmoths managed to retrieve one of them in the confusion before they figured out what was up.”

“Good work,” Jedao said. “My compliments to your people. Crack the thing open, but use every precaution. For all we know, there are death spores or haunts inside.”

Kavinte laughed at that. “All the more fun for us.”