Guardian

Seven

“The senior Syndic CEO in this star system expressed his sorrow at our loss,” Rione reported in a flat voice. “He also claimed to have no idea of the identity of the courier ships, saying the Syndic government had sold all of the ones which attacked us. If I press him for the identity of who the government sold them to, the answer will surely be a shocked avowal that the corporation which bought the ships has turned out to be a shell controlled by unknown parties.”

“No surprises there,” Geary said, trying to keep his own voice emotionless. They were in the conference room at her request for a private conversation. “How soon after the attack did that message get sent to us?”

“They transmitted it twenty minutes after they would have seen the attack end,” Rione said. “Enough time lag to ensure it wasn’t obvious they knew the attack would occur as soon as we arrived. They haven’t yet denied any involvement in the attack on Invincible.”

“Aside from the destruction of the stealth shuttles, there weren’t external signs of that attack,” Geary pointed out. “If they denied being involved in something that they could not have seen, it would look suspicious.”

“What shall we tell them about it?” Rione asked, sitting down opposite him and leaning one elbow on the table.

He looked at the star display floating between them, where the star Sobek occupied the center and the track of the First Fleet formed a graceful arc leading toward that star. Light-hours from the fleet, the primary inhabited world in this star system orbited Sobek. The world where the CEOs were located who had at the very least known of, and possibly assisted in, the attacks that had claimed Orion as well as some Alliance Marines aboard Invincible.

“Nothing,” Geary finally said. “Let them wonder what happened.”

She pursed her mouth and shook her head. “We could tell them that we have some prisoners who we are taking back to Alliance space as evidence.”

“Evidence of what? Those prisoners won’t say a thing to confirm any official Syndic involvement. Our doctors say if we try hard enough to force them, it will kill the prisoners.”

“We know that,” Rione said. “The Syndics do not. They know what they did to those soldiers. They don’t know whether or not we have developed new techniques for dealing with mental conditioning.”

“Hmmm.” That could make some Syndic CEOs very nervous indeed. And perhaps spare some future soldiers being given the same conditioning if the Syndics believed the conditioning wouldn’t stop them from talking. “If you can imply something like that, go ahead. But don’t offer any details about the attack on Invincible.”

“Do you think I’m an amateur, Admiral?” She glanced at the star display. “We should also tell them that we were unable to save their hypernet gate despite our best efforts.”

“Did you see the report that Captain Smythe prepared for us to send to the Syndics?”

“Smythe didn’t write that. I’d like to know who did.”

“Why?”

Rione eyed him. “Because whoever it is has some very useful talents.”

Geary bent his lips momentarily in a totally fake smile. “That person’s identity is my secret for now.”

“Have it your way.”

She had given in too easily. He had a feeling that Rione would be bending some efforts to learn Lieutenant Jamenson’s identity. “Is there anything else?”

“One other thing, Admiral.” She turned an enigmatic look on him. “How do you feel about it?”

“About what?”

“Destroying the hypernet gate. How do you feel about it?”

“What kind of question is that?” Geary said, avoiding an answer.

“You stepped across a line, Admiral. You and I both know that. You ordered the destruction of that gate even though legally you had no right to do so. The collapse of the hypernet gate here will send a clear message to the Syndics about the consequences of messing with this fleet, but you need to keep in mind that the limits on what you can do are only those limits that you place on yourself.”

He almost shouted at her, almost told her to go to hell, that good men and women had died, and the Syndics here should be extremely grateful that he hadn’t launched an orbital bombardment that would have wrecked every human city, town, and installation in this star system. Instead, he counted to ten inside before once again trying to deflect her. “As I recall, someone gave me the idea for that action.”

“Someone did,” Rione admitted calmly. “Is that a defense or a rationalization? I did it, but someone else gave me the idea. You can do better than that.”

“Why did you give me the idea if you’re so worried about the precedent it sets for me?” Geary pressed.

“Because I could tell how angry you were. How angry everyone in this fleet was. I can only guess what you wanted to do after we lost that battleship. The gate offered a means to strike back in a way that would hurt the Syndics badly but not by the sort of overt retaliation that might have created even more trouble.”

He kept his eyes on the star display, trying to come up with another way of avoiding a straight answer. But Geary realized that her warning was justified. That’s why I don’t want to answer her, to admit that she’s right. I wanted to do worse. Maybe I would have, if she hadn’t suggested using the gate’s collapse as a means to retaliate. But that kind of mass retaliation is exactly what we’re supposed to avoid. It’s a Syndic tactic. It’s not what our ancestors would approve of.

I cannot forget that. I have moved my own boundaries for behavior I would accept. I have to hold them where they now are because if they slip any more, Black Jack could get away with doing things I once would never have accepted.

Eventually, he looked back at Rione and nodded. “I understand. I know what you mean, and I understand the potential dangers. I will keep your words in mind.”

“Good.” It was impossible to tell whether or not Rione was pleased that he had accepted her warning. “I’ll send a message to the senior Syndic CEO in Sobek, officially protesting the attack on our forces and explaining that, alas, we could not save the hypernet gate, which was too badly damaged during the fighting. He’ll know that’s not what happened, but there’s nothing he’ll be able to do about it. That report from Captain Smythe will infuriate them because it offers them nothing they can use. This star system is well enough off, but it only has one jump point. It’s at a dead end in space. They’re going to miss that gate.”

“I hope so,” Geary said. “I hope every minute of every day they look up and realize their hypernet gate is gone and that what’s left of the Syndicate Worlds can’t afford to replace it. And I hope a lot of other star systems still loyal to the Syndic government hear about it and reconsider what sorts of orders they’re willing to follow.”

“Don’t hold out hopes for that result.” She shook her head at him, looking severe. “Remember what you reminded this fleet of. Destroying things and killing does not often bend people to your will. They are far more likely to react in classic human fashion, by resolving not to bend or break despite every rational reason to do so. We may have strengthened the hold of the Syndicate Worlds on this star system by destroying their hypernet gate.” She paused to let that sink in, then noticing that Geary wasn’t going to argue the point, Rione went on. “On another matter, I will mention to the Syndic authorities that we hold… five… yes, I’ll say five individuals.”

“We only captured two Syndics on Invincible,” Geary pointed out.

“Details, details. Two prisoners aren’t enough to make them sweat. Five is a large enough number of prisoners to really worry them. Five individuals who lack any identification but are responding positively to treatment and are beginning to provide us with answers to the questions we are asking.”

“Thank you,” Geary said. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”

“Don’t make that mistake, Admiral,” she warned with every appearance of sincerity. “I am not on your side. I am on the side of the Alliance. That has never changed. One thing more. I will tell the senior Syndic CEO that the Alliance government will hold the Syndicate Worlds responsible for any further attacks carried out using Syndic ships or equipment no matter who is employing those weapons.”

“Can you do that?” Geary asked. “That’s threatening war if we get attacked again.”

She spread her hands and smiled. “I am officially a voice of the government until we return to Alliance space. The government may repudiate my threats once we return, but until then, the Syndics have to take them seriously.” Rione regarded him with a questioning expression, head tilted to one side as if to study him better. “Something else is bothering you, Admiral.”

“Yes, it is.” Geary clenched one fist, looking down at it as he spoke. “Quite aside from your reminder to me that I forgot my own rules about the limitations of reprisals in altering human behavior.”

“Think of the destruction of that gate as vengeance for Orion, nothing more or less, and expect no benefits to flow from the act. You’re human, Black Jack. Take the lesson to heart and move on.”

“All right. But the other thing that worries me isn’t so easily disposed of. Even if the Syndics take your threat seriously, word of that threat will have to filter back to the right people. It will take time, as ships carry the threat to the Syndic government at Prime. Then word will have to come back from Prime. Just because of that time lag, which will measure in months, anything else they have already planned will take place no matter how seriously the Syndic leaders regard your words when they finally hear them.”

“That’s true,” Rione conceded. “Maybe my threats are my own form of retaliation, something I should know won’t really work but make me feel better.”

“No, the threat is still a good idea. The impact will take place over the long haul, so it can’t help us anytime soon, but it might change the plans of the Syndics in coming months. And there’s always the chance that if something else is planned for this star system, the local authorities might call it off, using your threats as justification.”

She nodded, as if thinking of something else, then spoke abruptly. “This diversion through Sobek is costing us time, isn’t it? How much?”

“Not too much,” Geary said, knowing that Rione was asking that question because of her concern for her husband, still sedated and now in sick bay on Dauntless. “It’s a bit longer a path than if we’d come through Indras as originally planned, but only ten days more unless we run into significant obstacles at Simur or Padronis. Atalia is so close to Alliance territory that I don’t think the Syndics could have prestaged any attacks there without them being spotted, even assuming that Atalia would cooperate with the Syndics.”

“Ten days can be a long time, Admiral,” Rione said, one of the few times she openly admitted to the strains upon her.

Geary nodded in reply, not certain what words would be right, if any, and thinking about the sort of obstacles this fleet might encounter the rest of the way back to Varandal.

Over the next several hours, Geary was bombarded with messages from the Syndic authorities in Sobek Star System. They demanded to know exactly what had caused the hypernet gate to collapse, they demanded to know why the Alliance warships were taking a path diving through the star system if they were simply headed for the jump point for Simur, they demanded that the fleet release to their custody any Syndicate World citizens in Alliance custody, and, in a breathtaking bit of gall, they demanded payment for the Alliance fleet’s use of the hypernet gate.

Geary was on the bridge of Dauntless when Rione informed him of the latest demand. Before replying, he made sure the privacy field around him was activated so none of the bridge watch-standers could overhear. “Emissary Rione, please inform the Syndicate authorities that they can go to hell, where they will doubtless receive everything that is due them.”

“Do you want me to phrase that diplomatically?” she asked.

“If you want to. I’m not worried about offending them. What’s the proper reply on the prisoners issue?”

She spread her hands apologetically. “The individuals in our custody have no proof of Syndic citizenship. We have to assume that they are stateless unless the authorities here want to both claim them as citizens and accept responsibility for their actions.”

“That works for me.” He paused, looking at his display. “Lieutenant Iger and his people have found no evidence of any Alliance prisoners of war in this star system. It’s just as well. If they were here, the local Syndics would probably try to bargain a swap for the prisoners we hold now.”

“There’s been no hint of that,” Rione said.

“What about the stealth shuttles we destroyed? Any comments from the CEOs about that?”

Rione actually rolled her eyes in a rare display of open contempt. “The Syndic authorities here blame that and everything else on rogue elements and unknown actors who are all not operating under the authority of the Syndicate Worlds. They are, in their words, shocked that military equipment ended up in the hands of criminals who, for reasons of their own, attacked us.”

“Too bad you can’t strangle a virtual image in a transmission,” Geary said.

“That is a shame. I’m a bit disappointed they aren’t making a better effort at lying about what they’re doing.” Her expression had turned grim. “It may be that they want us to react, to overreact, in a way that nullifies the peace treaty. Or the opposite could be true, that they think Black Jack won’t overreact, that you will keep your responses limited and thus allow the Syndics to keep inflicting minor injuries upon us until they add up to major injury.”

“Orion wasn’t a minor injury,” Geary said. “What do you think my options are?”

“Walk a tightrope, Admiral. Hit them back harder than they expect but not so hard that they can cry injustice.”

“How am I supposed to figure out what’s hard enough but not too hard?”

Rione smiled. “I can help with that. As I did with the unfortunate loss of the hypernet gate here.”

“I see.” Geary cocked a questioning eye at her. “What exactly have the Syndics said about the gate?”

“You just want to hear how upset they are, so you’ll be pleased to hear that they’re screaming bloody murder about it. Demanding data that explain the collapse of the gate and prove that our engineers didn’t themselves inflict the damage on purpose. Demanding compensation. Expressing great distress at such an act of aggression. Don’t look so murderous, Admiral. If you answered them looking like that, you’d be proving their, um, outrageous claims.”

“I have to admit, the sheer nerve of some of these Syndics is starting to get to me,” Geary said when he thought he had his voice under control.

Rione smiled again. “I’m a bit more used to it. I am expressing surprise, shock, and dismay at their charges. I am asking for evidence. I am invoking the arbitration clause of the peace treaty. I am promising to look into the matter. They know I am playing with them, that nothing will be done, that their hypernet gate is gone, and they will never be able to prove we had anything to do with its loss, and all of that, I assure you, is driving them completely up the wall.”

He smiled back at her. “You’re good at driving people up the wall, aren’t you?”

“It’s a gift.”

“Why are you being so helpful again? Did finding the Kicks and the Dancers really change things that much?”

She looked away, then back at him. “What changed things a lot was your discovering what was wrong with my husband. The thing done to Commander Benan, and the reason why it was done, are so far beyond what the public of the Alliance would accept that I now have a weapon that gives me an immense amount of leverage. Those who tried to use me, who blackmailed me, will know that.”

“But if you go public with that, it might literally kill your husband.”

Rione nodded calmly. “In my place, they would do such a thing anyway, and so they will believe that I would as well. Beware of people who are certain they are right, Admiral. That certainty allows them to justify almost any act in pursuit of their goals.”

“Like the Syndic CEOs in this star system?” Geary asked, hearing the bitterness in his voice. If only there had been some way to make them personally pay for what happened to Orion…

She shook her head. “I’d be very surprised if there’s any idealism there, Admiral, any sense of right and wrong. Those CEOs were doing what they thought would benefit them personally. There might have been private motives of revenge if they had lost someone to the war, but my conversations with former-CEO Iceni at Midway gave me some more insight into the CEO way of thinking. Their internal-security service produced true believers, but everyone else was motivated by self-interest or fear.”

“How does a system like that survive?” Geary asked.

“Self-interest and fear.”

“I was asking a serious question.”

Rione gave him that superior look. “And I was giving you a serious answer. Self-interest and fear work, for a while. Until self-interest, unconstrained by any higher loyalty, becomes more destructive than the system can endure, and until the people’s fear of acting against their system becomes less than their fear of continuing to live with it. Eventually, those things always happen. In the case of the Syndicate Worlds, the war meant that their leaders were able to use fear of us to reinforce fear of going against their system. The Syndicate Worlds is coming apart not just because of the stresses from the war and not just because it lost that war and a great deal of its military in the process, but also because fear of the Alliance can no longer be stoked to bind individuals, and individual star systems, to the Syndicate government.”

“I see.” Geary sat, thinking. “The Alliance is facing some of the same strains because fear of the Syndics helped hold us together.”

“An external enemy is a wonderful thing for politicians to have,” Rione said dryly. “They can excuse and justify a great many things by pointing to that enemy. But that doesn’t mean external enemies are never real. What is that old saying? Just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t really out to get you.”

“And the Syndics are still doing what they can to get us.” Geary nodded as a thought came to him. “I’ve been wondering what the Syndic goal is. Why are they attacking us in these ways? They must know they can’t win. But I think you just led me to the answer.”

“I’m wonderful that way, aren’t I?” Rione said. “If you are not in further need of my wise counsel, I will now compose my reply to the latest Syndic demands.”

Geary returned to the bridge and settled back in his fleet command seat, trying for at least the hundredth time not to notice the absence of Orion in the fleet’s formation. After spending months watching Orion because the battleship had been a poorly commanded albatross hanging about the neck of the fleet, and lately watching Orion because Commander Shen had done such a miraculous job of turning around the ship, making her a real asset to the fleet, Geary kept finding himself looking for Orion and not finding her.

He gave Desjani a sidelong glance. She was working stoically, not displaying grief, but he knew Shen had been a good friend of hers. Another shipmate whose name would adorn the plaque she kept in her stateroom to list those who had died and whom Desjani was determined never to forget.

“Yes, Admiral?” Desjani suddenly asked. She hadn’t looked his way, hadn’t shown any sign of noticing his glance, but had somehow known of it.

“I was just… thinking,” Geary said.

She met his eyes, and he saw there that she knew what he had been thinking of. It was scary sometimes how well Tanya could read him. “We have to remember, but we can’t spend too much time thinking about things that distract us from what we have to be thinking about.”

“Believe me, I’ve done almost nothing but think about what else the Syndics might be planning to do. I’ve been holding off on a fleet conference because I wanted to have some ideas to talk about to distract everyone from… our losses.”

She watched silently for a few seconds. “I doubt anyone can be distracted, Admiral. Not from that. But if we can’t think of ideas, we ought to call in more thinkers. Have you talked to Roberto Duellos? Or Jane Geary? Anyone besides me and that woman?”

“Yes, I’ve talked to other people. That woman just gave me a good idea of what the big-picture plan might be for the Syndic government.” He made an angry gesture. “But as far as the local threat, I have to face the fact that we don’t have anyone like… well, like those two colonels that worked for General Drakon. Someone who thinks like a Syndic, someone who could guess what their next devious plot is going to be.”

“You just want to see Colonel Morgan again,” Desjani said. “Oh, don’t get all defensive. It was a joke. One of my coping mechanisms. You should be used to it by now. All right, we don’t have any Syndics in this fleet, except the prisoners captured aboard Invincible who aren’t even admitting that they are Syndics, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have any conniving thinkers available.” Desjani tapped a control. “Master Chief Gioninni, I am in need of someone with a devious mind.”

Within a couple of minutes, the master chief’s image appeared in a virtual window near her. “Someone with a devious mind? Do you want me to locate someone like that for you, Captain?” Gioninni asked with a remarkably sincere tone of voice.

“I’ll settle for you, Master Chief. You’ve been keeping up on events in this star system so far, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Captain. At least, I’ve been keeping up on everything appropriate to my position within the fleet—”

“Spare me the false piety, Master Chief,” Desjani said. “I want you to consider the following question very carefully. If you were going to try to inflict more damage on this fleet while it was in this star system, what would you do?”

“You mean if I were a Syndic, Captain?”

“If it makes you more comfortable, imagine that this is a Syndic fleet, and you’re trying to figure out how to mess with it again before it leaves this star system.”

Gioninni’s answer came without hesitation. “Mines at the jump exit. We can take all kinds of paths through the star system to get there, but we’ve got to use that exit, Captain. They know that.”

“How would you keep us from spotting those mines in time to avoid them?” Desjani asked. “They know that we’d be alert after the earlier attacks and watching for anything else. Syndic stealth tech on their mines is good, but not good enough to keep them undetectable if we’re looking for them in a specific spot, and we’re fairly close to it.”

“A diversion, Captain,” Gioninni replied. “Something to distract us again. Something to help hide those mines a little better from our sensors. It’s like sleight of hand. It works not because what you’re doing couldn’t be seen but because you’re doing something else as well that draws the attention of the people watching you.”

“Any ideas what form that diversion would take?” Desjani asked.

This time Gioninni did pause before answering. “I’d have to think about that, Captain. It would have to complicate the picture for the fleet sensor automated hazard detection as well as divert the attention of the human operators.”

“Please do think about it, Master Chief. Thank you for your valuable input. Are there any other matters to report?”

“Ah, one thing, Captain. It’s sort of private.”

Desjani tapped her controls. “I’ve got the privacy field activated around me.”

And around him, Geary realized, since he had heard her words clearly, but he didn’t comment on that and thereby draw Gioninni’s attention to it.

“Yes, Captain. All right, you asked me to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary in a certain portion of the fleet?”

“The auxiliaries. Right. What is it?”

“Well, Captain, I have it on pretty solid authority that a lot of premium booze got delivered to one of the auxiliaries—”

“Tanuki?”

“That’s what I heard, Captain. This is embargoed stuff from Syndic planets, the sorts of things that would be in high demand back home.”

“I see. And just how did you become aware of this, Master Chief?”

“I got offered a deal by the same supplier, Captain. Naturally, I didn’t agree to anything.”

“The supplier wanted too much for the product?” Desjani asked. “And even you couldn’t haggle the price down?”

“Now, Captain, paying extortionate prices is no way to make a profit. Not that I would ever engage in such a transaction, which, as you know, would be contrary to fleet regulations. But I did feel required to learn all I could about the deal just in case it constituted some sort of threat to the fleet or its personnel,” Gioninni added piously.

“Your dedication to duty is a shining example to us all,” Desjani said. “Do you have any idea what Tanuki paid for the black-market booze?”

“No, Captain. I couldn’t find that out.”

“Thank you, Master Chief. Do you have anything else?”

“Just one very minor thing, Captain,” Gioninni said, smiling winningly. “A question. Will there be any other major course alterations before we reach the jump point?”

“That’s hard to say, Master Chief, and it will be up to Admiral Geary in any event.”

“I understand that, Captain, but you see when we went on this roundabout track to the jump point, I had to cancel all the bets in the jump pool and restart the whole thing.”

“That must have been a lot of work, Master Chief,” Desjani said with false sympathy.

Unseen by Gioninni, Geary grinned. Jump pools had been around as long as jump drives. Crew members would place minor wagers on the exact moment when the ship would enter jump, and whoever came closest to the actual time won the whole pot. For some inexplicable reason, the fleet had never cracked down on the practice, instead recognizing its importance for morale and as a relief valve for gambling cravings that might otherwise show up in worse forms. To Geary’s knowledge, the only times the official hammer had come down on jump pools were when the sizes of the individual wagers grew too large.

“Master Chief, I will ensure that the Admiral takes into account the impact on your workload if he orders another significant change in the arrival time at the jump point,” Desjani continued.

“Now, Captain,” Gioninni protested, “you know I’m the hardest-working sailor on this ship. Excepting for you and the Admiral, of course.”

“That depends upon how we define ‘work,’ Master Chief. Thank you again for your information and your suggestion.”

Desjani ended the call and looked pointedly at Geary. “What do you think, Admiral?”

“About the jump pool, the booze, or the Syndic plans?”

“I told you that you had to keep an eye on Smythe.”

“Which you are doing a good job of,” Geary pointed out. “Did you know that the auxiliaries also acquired some important rare-earth materials while we were at Midway? They didn’t get those from any asteroid mining, but we needed them, so I didn’t ask inconvenient questions. Smythe has probably broken half of the rules in the book, but a lot of the time he’s breaking the rules to get the job done.”

“And you’re willing to look the other way at the other times because of that?”

“Yes. As long as he’s not hurting the fleet. I will ask some leading questions about Syndic booze to let him know he’s being watched and had better not play any criminal games with it.” He could see she was getting ready to argue the point. “It’s just like your not asking certain questions of Master Chief Gioninni because his particular skills can be very useful to you and to Dauntless.”

She paused in the midst of starting to say something, then nodded ruefully. “You’ve got me there. What about the master chief’s guess about what the Syndics will do?”

“I think he’s very likely right,” Geary said. “You and I should have seen that, but we were too focused on threats along the path to that jump point to realize that the final approach to that jump exit is the only place left in this star system that we have to go.” He ran a quick query on his display. “There have been a couple of merchant ships seen leaving via that jump point since we arrived, but those ships could have been sent through on purpose on paths to avoid any mines so we would think there’s no threat there.”

“But there has to be a diversion to distract us when we’re near that jump point. What would work? Stealth shuttles aren’t cheap or available in large numbers, and we put a decent dent in how many of them the Syndics must have in this region of space. And that boarding operation only succeeded as much as it did because we were already distracted by another attack.”

“Something different,” Geary said. “They’ll know we’re watching for the same things coming at us. They’ll want to do something we’re not watching for. Whatever that is. All right. I’m calling a fleet conference.”

He never looked forward to conferences like this, even when there was nothing but good news or routine events to discuss. So far, Sobek had provided nothing good or routine, so this virtual gathering of the fleet’s ship captains promised to be the same.

Geary stood in the fleet conference room, looking across the assembled images of his ships’ commanding officers. A rather small compartment in reality, the meeting software made it seem vast enough to hold everyone, the table in front of Geary virtually expanded to seat hundreds of men and women. The most senior officers, the captains and commanders in charge of battleships and battle cruisers, General Carabali of the Marines and the senior fleet engineers, were “seated” closest to Geary, with the others farther way in descending order of seniority and the size of their command. He could look at any one of them, though, and the software would automatically zoom in on that individual, displaying name, rank, and command.

It all made meetings very easy to hold. For the most part, Geary considered that a negative aspect of the software. As a rule, he thought that meetings should be hard to hold and hard to get to, crowded into stuffy, uncomfortable rooms where everyone wanted to leave as soon as possible.

But sometimes even he had to hold meetings like this, and at those times the software was a very nice thing to have.

“You’re all familiar with the situation,” Geary said. “The loss of Orion was a terrible blow, but her crew died with honor, doing their duty, and will surely be welcomed by the living stars.”

“A terrible loss,” Captain Duellos of the battle cruiser Inspire commented with unusual harshness. “We have lost too many comrades in battle. I wish Orion had been able to take more of the enemy with her and that we had more means of making pay those who ordered that attack. What a shame that the hypernet gate here was so badly damaged as well in that action.”

“Yes,” Captain Badaya of Illustrious agreed, his face reddened with anger. “But not enough of a shame. It’s too bad a few stray bombardment projectiles didn’t put craters into a lot of important Syndic facilities here.”

A low rumble of concurrence sounded around the huge, virtual table.

“Why not?” Commander Neeson of Implacable asked. “Why not make them pay a higher price? They attacked us. They destroyed Orion. Why not retaliate?”

Geary waited for another burst of agreement to subside instead of quelling it using the meeting software. Let them blow off a little steam. We all need to. “I haven’t ordered that kind of retaliation because that’s exactly what the leaders of the Syndics want us to do. They want us to break the peace agreement in such a way that they can claim we attacked them first.”

That statement brought silence, finally broken by Captain Tulev of Leviathan. “Why would the Syndics seek war with the Alliance again when the Syndics do not even have the military means left to force all of their own star systems to remain loyal to them?” Tulev sounded questioning, not challenging.

“Because they want an external enemy again,” Geary said. “The Syndic leaders know they can’t hold what’s left of the Syndicate Worlds together by using the force available to them, but they also know that fear of the Alliance provided a powerful reason for star systems not to revolt during the war. They think if we attack them, if the Alliance can be painted as an aggressive enemy that everyone must fear, it will again give the Syndic leaders a strong tool for keeping star systems loyal to them.”

Badaya shook his head. “That genie is out of the bottle. Even if we came rampaging through Syndic space bombarding right and left, the Syndic empire isn’t going to reconstitute itself.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” General Carabali said, her words coming slowly and carefully. “As weak as they are in the wake of the war, the Syndicate Worlds can still offer a greater degree of security to individual star systems than those star systems can muster on their own. That greater security against external threats and the promise of internal stability are the only things the Syndics can offer those star systems now.”

“It creates a choice of enemies again,” Duellos said. “At this time, with the Alliance at peace, the only enemies those star systems see are the rulers of the Syndicate Worlds. Their own rulers. Start the war again, and there are other enemies to worry about. It might work.”

“It might,” Tulev agreed. “If only a little. But from small advantages, large changes can grow over time. I see your logic, Admiral.”

Badaya was still angry, but he was thinking. “They are goading us to attack. Why would they do that unless they want us to attack? I see your point as well, Admiral. But it is still a very bitter thing to leave this star system with only the loss of their hypernet gate to avenge the loss of Orion.”

“I agree,” said Geary. “It feels like far too little. Yet the loss of the hypernet gate here will have a serious impact on the local economy, as well as on the ability of the Syndics to move military forces quickly.”

“As far as we know, this was their last functioning hypernet gate, except for Midway’s, which they no longer control,” Neeson pointed out.

“Yes, that’s why the Syndics here are so upset about—” Geary stopped speaking as he realized that something major didn’t fit.

Captain Hiyen grasped just what that was before anyone else. “Why are the Syndics here so upset about losing their hypernet gate if the only other gate they could access was Midway’s? The gate was already effectively almost useless.”

Emissary Charban had his eyes on the star display positioned above the conference table. “If they are that upset, it argues that the gate was still useful to them, that there were other places they could access through it.”

“We ran the checks,” Desjani insisted. “The only gate accessible was Sobek.”

Hiyen shook his head. “The only gate accessible from Midway when we tried to access the Syndic hypernet was Sobek,” he said, carefully emphasizing certain words. “We know that is true.”

Commander Neeson was staring at Hiyen. “Have the Syndics developed some means of selectively blocking access to gates within their hypernet? Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know,” Hiyen admitted. “I don’t know that anyone has ever looked into it. Why would we?”

“Why would the Syndics have done that? Tried to develop something like that?” Badaya demanded.

“Oh, hell,” Desjani said with disgust. “The answer to that is aboard Dauntless, and has been ever since we got the Syndic hypernet key from that damned supposed Syndic traitor.”

Duellos looked pained. “Of course. As soon as we escaped the trap intended for us at Prime, the Syndics knew the Alliance fleet was loose with a key to their hypernet. We assumed they were trying to counter that by catching and destroying this fleet. But why would they stop at that? Why wouldn’t they also start trying to figure out how to limit the usefulness of the key to keep us from going anywhere we wanted within their hypernet?”

“They’ve been working on it ever since we escaped Prime,” Neeson said angrily. “And it never even occurred to us.”

“We won,” Charban said. “Why should we have looked for new capabilities?”

“We do not know the Syndics have done this,” Tulev cautioned. “It is a reasonable guess, I agree. But it is not confirmed.”

Geary looked toward Rione. She nodded, so he turned to face the whole table again. “We do know the Syndics conducted some new research into the hypernet. They developed a means to block the collapse of hypernet gates by remote signals, the sort of thing that destroyed Kalixa. I don’t know whether or not the Alliance has engaged in similar research.”

“We didn’t have the same incentive, did we?” Duellos asked. “We didn’t have a star system turned into a charnel house like the Syndics did at Kalixa.”

“The enigmas tried to do the same thing to Petit Star System in the Alliance,” Desjani pointed out.

“But they did not succeed thanks to the anticollapse device created by our late and very lamented colleague Jaylen Cresida. A star system without a hypernet gate is a far cry from a star system destroyed by its hypernet gate.”

Geary glanced around, but no one else seemed to have any suggestions. Is this somehow related to fleet headquarters’ attempt to pull anyone with hypernet expertise from this fleet prior to our departure from Varandal? I thought it might be to keep us from learning about the possibility of the entire Syndic hypernet being collapsed by remote signal, but was it about more than that?

Jane Geary looked up with a stunned expression. “Lakota. Didn’t you tell me, Admiral, that Syndic reinforcements showed up at Lakota and were surprised to be there because they had entered a different destination into their controls?”

“Yes,” Geary said.

“How much do the Syndics know about that? The Syndics at Lakota had time to report it, didn’t they, between the time our fleet left Lakota and returned to fight the second battle there? The Syndics would have learned then that there was some means of altering the destination of ships that had already entered the hypernet. What if they’ve been trying to learn how to do that as well?”

“This just keeps getting better,” Badaya said in disgust. “Our trump card, the ability to use the Syndic hypernet while they can’t use ours, is turning into a wild card.”

“Maybe the Alliance government is researching the same things,” Charban suggested. “Perhaps when we return to Varandal, we will find that countermeasures have already been prepared.”

There was a slight pause, then scornful mirth rippled around the vast, virtual table.

“With all due respect to your record as a ground forces officer,” Duellos said, “are you proposing that we should trust that our government has anticipated a problem and worked to correct it before it went nova?”

Charban had the good grace to smile slightly. “That does sound like a reach, doesn’t it? But don’t forget that the Syndic system is plagued by many problems, not the least being its own leaders, and still has apparently managed to produce some results.”

“We’ll find out some of the answers when we go through other Syndic star systems,” Geary said, “and when we get back to Varandal. Whatever state the Syndic hypernet is in, whatever the Syndics can do with it, doesn’t matter for us now that we’re this close to Alliance space. We’ll be using jump the rest of the way home, and it’s not that far. We don’t know what else the Syndics might try along the way, but they lost a lot of courier ships in the suicide attack, and a lot of elite special forces and stealth equipment in the attack on Invincible. They won’t be able to replace those easily, and they won’t be able to use them against us again or against their own people.”

“That’s not enough,” Captain Vitali of Dragon said. “We lost a battleship and her entire crew. To an unprovoked attack conducted without warning. We can’t lose sight of that just because of our speculations about the Syndic hypernet.”

The murmur around the table this time was more of a growl as the reminder of the circumstances of Orion’s loss generated renewed rage.

How do I respond to that? Geary looked over toward where Tanya Desjani sat. She was looking back at him with an aggravated expression, as if the reply was obvious, and he was taking far too long to come up with it.

Oh.

“It’s not the first time I have dealt with an unprovoked attack, conducted without warning,” Geary said. The reminder that he had faced the first attack of the war, a surprise assault that he had led a last-ditch defense against at Grendel a century ago, brought everyone up short. “The question is, do we do what they want us to do or what we want to do? Do we let them win, even though we beat them both times they attacked us here?”

The argument was logical but was warring against emotions. He could tell that his commanders, for the most part, wanted to buy into it but were reluctant to.

While he was trying to come up with points to reinforce his position, Captain Jane Geary spoke up. She had been quieter since the desperate fight at Honor, usually watching and listening instead of commenting, but now she spoke with an intensity that held everyone. “As long as the peace agreement stands, the Syndics are required to return all prisoners of war to us. They are required to allow us to enter their space in order to recover prisoners of war. Consider the cost to those men and women still trapped in Syndic labor camps if we play the Syndics’ game now.”

It was the emotional counterpoint he had sought, and Geary could tell it had hit home.

Badaya nodded firmly. “Captain Geary is right. We could kill every Syndic in this star system, and it wouldn’t free a single Alliance prisoner held elsewhere. Hell, we tried killing every single Syndic, and all we got for it was a hundred years of war. Let’s honor the sacrifice of Orion’s crew by vowing to recover every Alliance prisoner no matter how the Syndics try to provoke us. We’ll kill anyone they send against us and get our people back!”

This time, those around the table shouted approval, while Desjani stared at Badaya with the same expression of shock she would have worn if a rock had begun debating philosophy with her.

Geary himself barely managed to hide his own amazement at Badaya’s speech. “I could not have said it better. That will be our policy. We’ll get this fleet home, we’ll get Invincible home, we’ll get the Dancers to our home, and we won’t stop until we get all of those Alliance men and women held by the Syndics home as well.”

Tumultuous approval reigned on all sides. He let it go for several seconds, then called for silence. “The Syndics may try something else while we’re still here. Everyone stay alert. We’re expecting trouble at the jump point for Simur, but that doesn’t mean something else might not be out there. As you’ve seen, our path to the jump point is taking a wide detour from the direct route in order to avoid anything else lying in wait along the shortest-distance course. Thank you.”

His officers jumped to their fleet, some at the far reaches of the virtual table leading a cheer, then, with salutes and determined expressions, the images of the commanding officers began vanishing and the apparent size of the room shrinking in size.

He forestalled Badaya and Jane Geary from leaving, though, waiting until they were alone except for the real presence of Desjani. “I wanted to thank you both for having my back during that meeting. You spoke well, and you made some excellent arguments.”

“I owed you a few, Admiral,” Jane Geary said. “And my brother Michael is out there somewhere. We need to find him.” She saluted and vanished.

Badaya made a diffident gesture. “It just made sense, that’s all. The simple answers are appealing because they’re simple, but that means you have to look a lot closer at them, doesn’t it?”

“That’s been my experience,” Geary agreed.

“Well, you’ve taught us a few things.” Badaya glanced at Desjani, his suggestive smile a return to the Badaya of old. “And you, Tanya. I guess married life has mellowed you! The old Tanya would have been demanding Syndic heads on stakes every kilometer back to Varandal.”

Geary could see Tanya tense, but she just smiled back. “If you think I’ve mellowed, try and cross me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Badaya grinned in his customary oafish manner, saluted, and vanished.

“What the hell?” Geary asked the space where Badaya’s image had been.

“That’s what I was wondering.” Desjani rapped the side of her head with one hand. “When he chimed in eloquently about the need for thinking instead of lashing out, I thought I must have gone crazy or slipped into some alternate reality where Badaya’s smarter twin exists. Eloquent! Badaya!”

“He’s been a bit different since Honor,” Geary said.

“There have been rumors that Badaya tried to resign,” Tanya said, eyeing him. “And that you turned him down. That you told him that you still had confidence in him.”

“I can’t comment on rumors or on private discussions with other officers. Not even to you. You know that.”

“Did he try to resign?”

“Tanya—”

“He expected to die at Honor. Expected to die along with every person on every ship in his force,” she said. “If anything can make someone change, that will.”

“So did Jane,” Geary said. “She told me she was scared and certain she was going to die at Honor.”

“Yeah, well, you either die, or you don’t,” Desjani said. “If you’re lucky, you live, and try to be worthy of that.” One hand had stolen upward, as if of its own volition, and touched the Fleet Cross ribbon on her left breast.

“What happened to you, Tanya? When you earned that award?”

She stood up and looked away. “I didn’t die.”

“Tanya—”

“Not now, Admiral. I’ll tell you someday… maybe.” Desjani turned back to him with an enigmatic look. “If we both live that long.”