Valiant

NINE

It wasn’t hard at all to figure out why Wendig hadn’t gotten a Syndic hypernet gate, nor why Syndic records indicated the star system had been abandoned once the Syndic hypernet had been constructed. The only puzzle was why anyone had actually remained in the system. Only three worlds orbited the star, along with a mess of asteroids. Two of the planets were in distant orbit, frozen balls of rock orbiting more than five light-hours from the feeble warmth of the dim red star. The world nine light-minutes from the weak star had too little atmosphere, and what it did have was poisonous to humans, but it had once boasted at least two covered cities. Taking another look at the data, Geary decided that even at their biggest, “town” had been a better description than “city” for both of them.

Absolutely no other trace of humanity remained in the Wendig Star System. Now one of those towns was dark and cold, but the other was still inhabited even though many portions of it seemed inactive. “They, or their parents, might have been abandoned here when the Syndic corporations employing them pulled out of the system,” Desjani remarked.

“Yeah. I can’t see any other reason they might have stayed.”

“Captain?” The communications watch-stander gestured toward his display. “There’s a distress signal being broadcast. It’s from the inhabited world.”

That brought up unpleasant memories of Lakota. Desjani frowned as she and Geary both punched their own displays to bring up the signal.

It was audio only, a voice speaking with labored calm. “Anyone passing through or near Wendig Star System, this is the town of Alpha on the world Wendig One.” The corporate minds of the Syndic leaders hadn’t tended to grant poetic names to worlds or towns, Geary reflected for maybe the hundredth time, unless the names had been created for advertising purposes. “Our remaining life-support systems are at risk of imminent failure,” the message continued. “We’ve cannibalized everything left on this world to keep them working, but all resources are now exhausted. There are over five hundred and sixty remaining inhabitants who require emergency assistance and evacuation. Please respond.” A pause, then a universal time and date register, then the message began repeating.

Geary checked the date on the message again. “They’ve been sending this for a month.”

“Anyone near Wendig?” Desjani asked. “They must know that no one would be closer than the nearest inhabited star systems, and this message will take years to get to those. Even then, it’s too weak to be heard across interstellar distances. Unless an astronomical researcher scanning that frequency band picks it up, it’ll go unheard, and researchers avoid bands used for human communication systems because they’re so full of noise.”

“Maybe these people have been sending rescue requests for years, then, which have gone unheard. Are they still alive?” Geary wondered.

Another watch-stander answered. “That city isn’t at a comfortable temperature for humans, but it’s still got some heat, and the atmosphere inside reads out as breathable. Their air-generation and recirc systems must be in bad shape, though, from the amount of contaminants we’re seeing on spectral analysis.”

Geary looked over at Desjani, who was grimacing. She noticed his regard and shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s not a nice way to die, sir. Even for Syndics.”

“Five hundred and sixty. Families, surely. Adults and kids.” Geary had the automated billeting assistant on his fleet database run the figures. “We could hold them.”

“Hold them?” Desjani stared at him.

“Yeah. Like you said, it’s an ugly way to die, slowly freezing and feeling the air get worse and worse. We could take them somewhere else.”

“But—” Desjani stopped and spoke slowly. “Sir, it’s the smallest drop in the bucket. Yes, it’s … tragic. Even though they’re Syndics. But that many people die in this war every second. At this very moment there’s a good chance that an Alliance world is being bombarded by Syndic warships, and thousands of our civilians are dying.”

Geary nodded to show he knew the truth of her words. And yet … “What was the Third Truth?”

She looked back at him for a long moment before answering. “Only those who show mercy can expect to receive it. It’s been a very long time since I heard the Truths recited.”

“I guess we used to do that more often a century ago.” Geary looked down, gathering his arguments. “I know what’s been done. I know what Syndic ships may be doing at this moment. But how can we just sail by and let those people die? Anything we could have done at Lakota would have been insignificant against the scale of the tragedy. Here we can make a difference.”

“Sir, any delay could be fatal. We don’t know what kind of Syndic force might be in pursuit of us, or what forces are moving to block us in other star systems. Going to that world will cost at least an extra day in this star system. Maneuvering to pick them up will cost fuel-cell reserves we can’t afford to burn. Not a lot, but some. They’ll eat our rations while aboard our ships, and we’re already short on food, too. On board they’ll have to be guarded constantly to ensure that they don’t commit sabotage. And then we’ll have to find a way to drop them off in the next star system without costing too much time and fuel-cell reserves, possibly while dodging an enemy flotilla.” Desjani laid out each point in turn, then spoke firmly. “Sir, the cost of this gesture could well be more than we can afford.”

“I understand.” And he truly did. What would be the morality of hazarding the many thousands of personnel in this fleet, and the fate of the Alliance itself, in the name of saving a few hundred enemy civilians? It wasn’t like he didn’t have other things to worry about, like whoever had placed the worm in the fleet’s jump drives, and might take advantage of any focus on these Syndics to commit more sabotage. He’d hoped that once the fleet returned to normal space someone who had searched their conscience during the transit to Wendig would have contacted him with important information, but no such informant had appeared. Nor had Rione’s or Duellos’s sources within the fleet discovered anything new. But was that a critical factor in deciding whether or not to help these people? “Co-President Rione, what is your opinion?”

Rione took a while to answer. “I can’t dispute the arguments laid out against offering assistance,” she finally replied in an unemotional voice. “But you want to do it anyway, don’t you, Captain Geary?” Geary nodded. “Then my advice would be to follow your instincts. Every time you’ve done so, you’ve been right.”

Desjani turned enough to glare at Rione, then her expression changed as she thought. “Co-President Rione is right, sir. About your instincts. You are guided in ways we are not.”

Geary managed not to groan. Guided. By the living stars themselves. Or so Desjani and a large portion of the fleet believed.

“But, sir,” Desjani continued, “it’s still a very large risk. My advice has not changed. Besides, it’s very likely that another Syndic pursuit force will come through this system after us. They’ll hear the distress message, too.”

He nodded, grateful at the realization that a humane alternative existed. Then another insight hit. “Would a Syndic force in pursuit of us divert to assist those civilians?”

Desjani’s lips compressed into a thin line, then she shook her head. “Probably not, sir. Almost certainly not. Their commander would be sent to the labor camps for wasting time.”

Give Desjani full credit. She didn’t want to divert to help those people, for a long list of good reasons, but she’d given him an honest assessment even though it hurt her case. He thought about the people on Wendig One. It was entirely possible that some of them, even adults, had never seen any ship in their star system. Why would any ship come here once the hypernet had been constructed? Now, with their means of life failing, they would look up and see this fleet and watch it pass by and leave. Then they’d maybe see a Syndic flotilla and watch it pass by and leave. Then there’d be no more ships. While the air got colder and harder to breathe. While the elderly and the youngest children died one by one, the strongest citizens clinging despairingly to each other as death came slowly for them each in turn, until Wendig Star System was as devoid of human life as it had been for uncounted millennia before the first starships came here.

Geary drew in a deep breath. The vision he’d seen of the dying colony had been so real, as if he were there. Where had it come from?

Maybe he was being guided. He knew what his heart said, and he knew what everything he’d been taught said. Measured against that was the cruel reality of war and the necessities of command. But there wasn’t a Syndic flotilla right on this fleet’s tail, no imminent threat to measure against those innocent lives.

Everyone was watching him, waiting. Only he could decide. And that knowledge tipped the balance, because he had a responsibility to make hard decisions, and going onward and leaving the colony to its fate didn’t require a decision, just the absence of one until the option became too hard to carry out. “I feel,” Geary began, “that we have a duty to help those people. That this is a test of us, one we must pass to prove we still believe in the things that made the Alliance great. We will pass that test.”

It felt like all those on Dauntless’s bridge had been holding their breath and now let them out all at once. Geary looked to Desjani, dreading to see a look of disapproval there. He knew how Desjani felt about Syndics. And now Geary wanted to risk her ship to rescue some of them.

But Desjani didn’t seem angry. She was watching him as if trying to see something not apparent to the naked eye. “Yes, sir,” she said. “We will pass that test.”

The video message feed from Wendig One was broken by static, another ugly reminder of what they had left behind at Lakota. “I can’t trace it to interference. It’s probably because their equipment is patched together,” the communications watch explained.

A man looked out, his expression baffled. “Alliance warships, we are in receipt of your message. We’re incredibly grateful for your assistance. Is the war over? How do you come to be this deep in Syndicate Worlds’ space?”

Geary checked and saw that the fleet was still almost two light-hours from Wendig One. Not the best circumstances for a conversation. Extremely annoying circumstances for a conversation, really, when his reply would take two hours to reach the Syndic and the Syndic’s next answer another two hours to reach Geary. “This is the Alliance fleet commander. We won’t deceive you. The war is not over. This fleet is on a combat mission, on its way back to Alliance space. But we do not war on civilians or children. We will divert from our course through this system far enough to be able to send shuttles down to evacuate your people. There must be no delays. You have my word on the honor of my ancestors that you will be treated properly while aboard Alliance ships and dropped off safely in the next inhabited Syndicate Worlds’ star system we reach. Provide an accurate count of people involved, broken down by families so we can ensure that no families are separated during the transit. We’ve identified the landing pad on the northwest side of your town as the best location for our shuttles to land. There’s some drifting sand covering part of it that needs to be swept clear by your people if possible. Everyone must be standing by at the nearest access to that landing pad when our shuttles arrive. No weapons of any kind are to be brought, nor anything that could be used as a weapon. Personal luggage must be limited to ten kilos per person. Are there any questions?”

Geary leaned back and closed his eyes. If there were any questions, he wouldn’t hear them for at least four hours.

Less than two hours later Captain Desjani took a message, then got up from her command seat and stepped close to speak to Geary, activating his sound-deadening field. “My systems-security officer reports that the subnet we were told about before leaving Branwyn was used again to try to plant a worm. The worm was identified and blocked, but all attempts to ID the originator have failed.”

“Messing with our system jump drives again?”

“No, sir.” Desjani tilted her head toward the star-system display. “It would have infiltrated the combat systems of two warships and caused the targeting and launch of kinetic bombardment munitions aimed at the town occupied by the Syndic civilians. A systems-security alert has been sent to all warships in the fleet to scrub their combat systems for any worm that might have gotten through by other means.”

That took his breath away for a moment. “So our saboteurs are willing to kill helpless Syndics as well as unsuspecting Alliance comrades. Which ships?”

“The munitions would have been launched from Courageous and Furious, sir.”

“Ships commanded by two of my strongest supporters in the fleet.” Geary felt a slow burn of anger. His fleet and shuttles never could have reached the Syndic survivors before those munitions struck. “Someone has a sick sense of vengeance and a very ugly willingness to do anything.”

Desjani’s expression showed she agreed with him. “In half an hour they’ll know the worm was blocked. That’s when the munitions were supposed to launch.”

“Thank you, Captain. I have a couple of people to talk to.” Geary left the bridge and waited until he was in his stateroom, with all security features active, before calling Rione and filling her in. “I don’t know if anyone will react when the worm doesn’t work, but you might have your sources watching.”

Rione, her face pale, nodded.

Geary passed the same information to Captain Duellos, then waited, wondering what he’d do if somehow another worm hadn’t been blocked or detected, if some of his ships did launch bombardment munitions against that dying Syndic colony. Nothing happened, though, and no one called. He hadn’t really expected anyone suddenly to rage in disappointment when the set time passed, but apparently not even subtle signs of frustration had been spotted in anyone. The only thing he could be certain of was that whoever had planted the worms would now be aware that their chosen subnet path had been compromised.

That and whoever had tried to destroy three Alliance warships earlier was now also opposed to Geary’s aiding these Syndics. At least that helped reassure him that he was indeed doing the right thing.

After all of that a reply finally came from the Syndic colony.

The Syndic he’d seen before was now anxious. Geary couldn’t help thinking how much more nervous the Syndic would be if he’d known how close his town had come to being turned into a large crater. “Sir, my people are very worried. Please don’t take this wrong, but many don’t trust the Alliance. Unless things have changed a great deal since our last news from outside, and it has been decades, there has been very little consideration for civilians in this war. I’m trying to convince them to trust you, because I can’t think of any reason why you’d bother to kill us aboard your ships rather than just letting us die here. No reason except … the women … the girls … all the children. I’m sorry, but you must understand what we fear. What can I tell them, sir?”

Geary pondered his reply. This man clearly wanted and needed to be convinced himself if he was to argue effectively with his own people. “Tell your people that Captain John Geary commands this fleet by the grace of his ancestors, and that he will never dishonor those ancestors by harming the helpless or breaking his word. I tell you again that I give you my personal word of honor that you will not be harmed as long as you do not attempt to harm these ships. Any person in this fleet who tries to assault any one of you will be dealt with under the wartime provisions of the fleet code of justice. I could have lied to you about the war, about this fleet’s mission. I didn’t. Your people have no military value whatsoever. But they are people. We won’t let them die if we can save them. Please provide the information we need as soon as possible.”

The next half day passed with a normalcy that felt almost surreal. Geary authorized the release of information about the latest worm despite fears that it might garner support for the saboteurs from officers who opposed his decision to aid the Syndics, but instead there was another wave of revulsion at the idea of hijacking ships’ combat systems. Humans had never fully lost their mistrust of automated combat systems, so anyone messing with their software to cause weapons systems to act on their own ended up on the wrong side of the fence as far as just about everyone was concerned.

Shuttles soared between warships, bringing new fuel cells and expendable munitions, replacement parts and anything else the auxiliaries had manufactured to meet the needs of the fleet during the period since leaving Lakota. Geary was pleased to see his fleet’s average fuel-cell reserves climb back up to 65 percent. Not great by a long shot, but better than it had been. Commander Savos was brought to Orion as her new commanding officer, fully aware of the challenge he faced there. Maybe he could turn Orion around as Commander Suram had done with Warrior.

The next reply from the Syndics didn’t come until the Alliance fleet was less than a single light-hour from Wendig One and about ten hours at its current velocity from reaching the planet. “We will trust you because we have no choice. Some of our people are using the few working survival suits we have left to try to sweep clear the landing pad you indicated. All of us will be standing by when your shuttles arrive.”

Desjani listened to the message with a resigned look.

Rione’s expression masked her thoughts. Everyone else Geary could see seemed puzzled, trying to figure out why he was doing this. In a way, that was very depressing. But none of them were objecting anymore, and that was at least hopeful.

The shuttles launched as the fleet approached Wendig, the Alliance warships braking their velocity to allow time for the shuttles to reach the surface, load, and rejoin. Geary monitored the action from the bridge of Dauntless. Every shuttle had a detachment of Marines in full battle armor aboard just in case. He hadn’t been thrilled by that since it meant reducing the passenger capacity of the shuttles and requiring using more of them, but Colonel Carabali had been insistent, and he’d recognized the wisdom of her strongly worded suggestions.

“All birds down,” the operations watch-stander reported.

On his display, Geary could see an overhead image of the grounded shuttles, the Marines spilling out to stand sentry and screen the passengers, evacuation tubes being run to the air lock on the civilian town. He toggled briefly to the video feed from one of the Marines. The outside of the Syndic town already looked long abandoned, drifts of toxic snow and sand piled up against its walls, broken and cannibalized equipment littering the lifeless landscape. Geary couldn’t help shivering at the cold, empty image of desolation. “Can you imagine being trapped in a place like that?” he asked Desjani.

She viewed the feed, frowning, but said nothing.

“Loading complete,” Colonel Carabali reported. This was a landing expedition and therefore a Marine operation, she had insisted. “Evac tubes being withdrawn into shuttles. Shuttle liftoff estimated in zero three minutes.”

“Any problems, Colonel?” Geary asked.

“Not yet, sir.” Confronted with well over five hundred Syndics, Carabali obviously believed it was only a matter of time before problems arose.

“Birds in the air on schedule,” the operations watch-stander reported. “Rendezvous with warships projected on time in twenty-five minutes.”

Desjani tapped her own controls. “Colonel Carabali, please confirm all Syndics were searched for weapons and destructive materials.”

Carabali sounded slightly insulted at having a fleet officer ask if Marines had done their jobs. “Absolutely. Full scans. They’re clean. They don’t have much.”

Geary and Desjani went down to the shuttle dock to see the Syndic civilians destined for Dauntless arrive. The Syndics filed off the shuttle between ranks of Marines in full battle armor with weapons at guard position. Some of the civilians were trying to look brave, but all appeared frightened. Fifty-one of them, their civilian clothes a mix of styles and types that Geary realized must reflect raiding old stockpiles and closets as their supplies of clothing wore out. All of them seemed slightly gaunt, reflecting what must have been short rations in recent years as the amount of food available also ran low.

They were also trying not to stare around at the ship and at the Alliance personnel in the hangar deck. It struck Geary as he watched them that these people had never encountered strangers before, never actually been anyplace unfamiliar. Far in time and space as they were from mankind’s origins, these Syndics were like the ancient inhabitants of a small island encountering their first ships from the outside. Not just ships, but warships carrying people who were supposed to be their sworn enemies.

Desjani stood beside him, her posture rigid, her face revealing nothing as she watched the enemy civilians walk onto the deck of her ship.

Geary recognized the man he’d spoken with and stepped forward. “Welcome to the Alliance fleet flagship. We’ll have to keep you all under guard, and a warship isn’t designed for a lot of passengers, so your accommodations will be pretty cramped.”

The man nodded. “I’m the mayor of … Well, I used to be the mayor of Alpha. We can’t very well complain about conditions here. It’s warm, and we can breathe. We honestly didn’t know if our life-support systems would hold out until your shuttles reached us.” The man’s eyes were still troubled by the memories of what must have been an agonizing wait. “But at least we knew you were coming. There haven’t been any ships here since the corporations pulled out. Before we got your call, we were getting ready to draw lots, though some argued the oldest shouldn’t even draw since we wouldn’t last long anyway.”

It was all too easy to imagine how these people had felt. “Why weren’t you evacuated from this star system along with everyone else?”

This time the mayor made a baffled gesture. “We have no idea. All of us who were left worked for subsidiaries of the same corporation, and our senior staff left on the last ship sent by another company. We were told the ships for us would arrive soon. They never did.”

“We’re taking you to Cavalos, so I guess your ships finally did arrive.”

The mayor grinned nervously. “Better late than never, right? You said you’re Captain John Geary? We know the name. It’s in our histories, though I expect they say different things than yours do. You’re his grandson?”

Geary shook his head. “No. I’m him. It’s a long story,” he added, as the mayor stared at him in disbelief, “but suffice it to say I fought at Grendel in the first battle of this war, and the living stars willing, I’ll see the last battle of it as well.”

The man leaned back involuntarily, his eyes wide.

A woman stood beside the mayor, her eyes constantly shifting from him to Geary, then to three children hanging on to her. The oldest of those, a young boy, saw his father recoil slightly and eyed Geary defiantly. “Don’t you dare hurt my father!”

Before Geary could answer he became aware that Desjani was beside him again, gazing down at the boy, her face still expressionless but her eyes showing inexplicable sadness. “Your father will not be harmed on my ship as long he does not attempt to cause any damage to my ship.”

The boy moved slightly, putting himself between Desjani and his mother. “We can’t believe you. We know what you’ve done.”

To Geary’s surprise, Desjani went to one knee so her head was on a level with the boy’s. “Man of the Syndicate Worlds,” she addressed the boy as if he were his father’s age, “under the command of Captain John Geary, the Alliance fleet no longer wars on the innocent or the helpless. Even should he leave his command, we would not do so again because he has reminded us of that which honor demands of warriors. You need not protect your family from us.”

The boy, wordless with surprise at being spoken to that way, nodded.

Desjani rose and looked down at the boy, then at his mother, exchanging some wordless message. The mother nodded, seeming reassured. Then Desjani gazed around and spoke in her command voice, her words ringing through the shuttle dock. “Citizens of the Syndicate Worlds, I’m Captain Desjani, commanding officer of the Alliance battle cruiser Dauntless. You are not combatants and will be treated as civilians in need of humanitarian assistance unless you try to harm my ship or members of my crew. Follow all instructions and orders given you. Anyone who violates orders or attempts to damage this ship or harm any Alliance personnel will be regarded as an enemy combatant and treated accordingly. We will require about three more days to reach the jump point to Cavalos, then just under nine days in jump space before arriving at Cavalos. According to the latest Syndicate Worlds’ star-system guides in our possession, that star retains a robust human presence. Once there, we’ll identify a safe place to deliver you.”

Desjani frowned as she studied the Syndic civilians. “I’ll have my medical personnel check you for serious problems. You’d be wise to cooperate with them to the best of your ability. Your rations will be equivalent to what my own crew is eating. At this point that’s mostly expired Syndic rations, so don’t expect any fine meals. Are there any questions?”

One woman, late middle-aged, called out. “Why?”

Desjani flicked a glance at Geary, but he indicated she could answer if she wanted. Facing the woman, Desjani spoke crisply. “Because only those who show mercy can expect to receive it. And because the honor of our ancestors demands it. Marines, escort the civilians to their accommodations.”

Despite Geary’s fears, no more sabotage attempts occurred over the next two days as the fleet covered the distance to the jump point for Cavalos. The Syndic civilians were so terrified, none of them had caused any problems. As he sat on the bridge of Dauntless waiting to give the jump command, Geary noticed Desjani gazing morosely at her display, where an image of Wendig One floated. “Something wrong?” he asked.

Desjani shook her head. “I was just thinking about how I’d feel if we were about to jump, and they were still there. I’ve had to think a lot about it, but you did the right thing, sir.”

“We did the right thing, Captain Desjani.” She glanced at him and nodded. Geary took one last look at Wendig One, lifeless again as it had been for uncounted years before humans came, and gave the order. “All ships, jump for Cavalos.”

Nine days, a fairly long stretch in jump space that couldn’t help but evoke thoughts about what would have happened if the worm in the jump drives hadn’t been discovered. Geary found himself staring at the drab grayness of jump space and the mysterious lights blooming and fading there, feeling the familiar sense of discomfort as if his skin didn’t fit right, growing each day, and wondered how long humans could remain sane if stuck there.

The Syndic civilians remained quiet and scared, crews worked continuing to repair internal battle damage to their warships, the auxiliaries manufactured more necessities for the fleet, and Geary found himself worrying more about his internal foes in the fleet than he did about the Syndic military. That was a first, but then his internal enemies had never before posed deadly threats to him and the ships of the fleet.

Five days along in jump space, he got the sort of brief message that was all that could be transmitted there. Making progress, from Captain Cresida. If she could figure out how to defuse even partially the threat of human-species extinction via hypernet gate collapses, it would remove a great weight from his shoulders.

Nine days, one hour, and six minutes from the time they jumped from Wendig, the Alliance fleet flashed into normal space at the Syndic star system Cavalos, its weapons ready for action and its sensors scanning for targets. But no mines awaited here, nor a Syndic flotilla or picket ships at the jump points. Apparently the unexpected Alliance victory at Lakota had badly thrown off the Syndics.

Cavalos did indeed have a decent human presence remaining. A halfway-comfortable world orbited about eight light-minutes from the star, and an even half dozen other significant planets swung around the star farther out, including a typical number of three gas giants, one with a fair amount of activity still apparent at mines and an orbiting facility. Near the inhabited world an obsolete Syndic light cruiser and a couple of even-more-obsolete “nickel” corvettes orbited.

Geary studied the situation, then looked to Desjani. “Just a standard self-defense force for a system deep in Syndic space. No threat to us.”

She shrugged. “We should take them out if the chance arises. They are legitimate targets.”

“I know. But I don’t expect them to be dumb enough to charge us, and they’re not worth the time or fuel cells it’d take to try to chase them down.”

Desjani nodded this time. “They’re junk anyway. As far as internal threats go, all of the systems-security officers in the fleet are on full alert, but nothing has popped up yet.”

No apparent threat to the fleet. That left room to worry about the Syndics from Wendig again. “This star system doesn’t seem to have suffered much deterioration since the hypernet was built. Should we drop our passengers off at that orbital facility? It’s not too far out of the way and won’t take us far into the star system.” The Syndic facility orbiting the gas giant was one and a quarter light-hours distant from the Alliance fleet, a bit off the track the fleet would have followed if going directly to the jump points for the next two stars Geary had to chose from, Anahalt or Dilawa. Not too far off, though. The main cost of dropping off the Syndic civilians would be the need to slow the fleet down again while the shuttles made their deliveries, a small loss in time and a small but real price in fuel cells.

Desjani pursed her lips as she checked the reports from the fleet’s sensors. “It’s got a fair amount of cold areas, which means they’ve got the ability to expand back into those if they need to. Either that, or they’ve got excess life support in the still-occupied areas. They should easily be able to absorb all of the civilians from Wendig.”

“Co-President Rione?” Geary asked.

“I defer to your professional judgments on the matter,” Rione replied.

“All right then.” Geary organized his thoughts for a moment, then activated his comm circuit. “This is Captain John Geary, commanding officer of the Alliance fleet, making an open broadcast to the inhabitants and authorities of the Syndicate Worlds’ star system Cavalos. We do not intend engaging in any military actions in this star system unless attacked. If we are attacked, we will reply with all necessary force.”

He paused. “This fleet carries five hundred sixty-three civilian citizens of the Syndicate Worlds whom we evacuated from Wendig Star System in response to their plea for rescue as their life-support systems failed. We will deliver those civilians to the main facility orbiting the gas giant five point three light-hours out from your star. Any attack on this fleet during our transit may result in injury to your own citizens, so you would be wise to exercise restraint.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “This fleet was present in Lakota Star System when Syndicate Worlds’ warships destroyed that star system’s hypernet gate and unleashed a destructive wave of energy that inflicted serious damage on the habitable world and all other human presence in the star system. We will transmit to all ships and occupied planets in this star system copies of our records of that event and of the pleas for assistance from the survivors on Lakota Three. The survivors at Lakota are in desperate need of aid, so we request that you forward this information as fast as possible.”

“I repeat, any attack on this fleet will be met with overwhelming force. To the honor of our ancestors.” He leaned back and glanced at Desjani. “Threatening enough?”

“If they’re smart.”

To no one’s surprise, the Syndics didn’t directly respond to Geary’s message or to the information from Lakota. Syndic shipping in the star system followed the usual pattern of fleeing for jump points or facilities, but otherwise no response to the Alliance fleet’s presence could be spotted aside from obvious civil-defense activity on the habitable world. Similarly, nothing happened from the fleet’s internal saboteurs, which didn’t so much cause relief as fear that something had been missed.

As the Alliance fleet bore down on the Syndic orbiting facility, less than two hours’ travel time remaining, someone finally reacted. “We have a transmission from the Syndic facility,” Dauntless’s communications watch-stander reported.

Geary called it up, seeing the image of a woman with gray hair and nervous eyes. “Do not approach this facility. You cannot land shuttles here,” she declared.

“We’re going to,” Geary assured her. “We’re going to drop off Syndicate Worlds’ citizens, then we’re leaving.”

“We’ll defend ourselves if you attempt to invade this facility.”

“We have no intent to invade any facility in this star system. Our shuttles will be accompanied by Marine security personnel. You are to ensure that no armed presence is nearby when our shuttles drop off your citizens. Once your citizens have been delivered, our shuttles and Marines will depart.”

The woman shook her head, fear coloring her expression. “I cannot authorize or allow an Alliance presence on my facility. We will defend ourselves.”

Geary had never liked bureaucrats, especially bureaucrats who seemed unable to adjust when reality collided with the rules they lived by. “Listen. If any attempt is made to attack my ships, my shuttles, or my personnel when we’re dropping off your civilians, I will hit that station of yours so hard that the quarks making up its component atomic particles will never find their way back together. Is that clear? If anyone fires on the civilians we drop off, I’ll do the same thing. They’re your people. We rescued them at risk to ourselves, we’re taking time we don’t have to spare to drop them off here, and you’d damn well better take good care of them after we do!” Geary’s voice rose as he talked, ending in a roar that seemed to terrify the Syndic station administrator.

“Y-yes, I … I understand,” she stuttered. “We’ll prepare to receive them. Under duress. Please, we have families aboard this station …”

“Then let’s not have any trouble,” Geary replied, trying to get his voice’s volume back to normal. “Some of the people we rescued from Wendig have long-term health problems they couldn’t treat there. We’ve done what we could, but they’ll need more assistance from you. I’m going to be blunt that I find it appalling that your leaders would abandon human beings to eventual deaths when their life-support systems failed.”

“You’re not going to kill us? Or destroy this station?” The administrator seemed to be having a lot of trouble grasping the idea.

“No. Any military value it has doesn’t outweigh the suffering such actions would cause civilian inhabitants of this star system.”

“And you truly saved people from Wendig? We thought no one was left there.” The woman seemed about ready to break down. “Everyone was supposed to have been removed when the system was abandoned.”

“The people we evacuated told us that the corporation they or their parents were employed by never sent ships. They had no way of finding out why, of course. Perhaps you can help them with that,” Geary added pointedly.

“H-how many?”

“Five hundred sixty-three.” He could see the question on her face, the same question all of the Syndics, and many of the Alliance personnel, kept asking. Why? Irritated at again having to be faced with a question whose answer he thought obvious, Geary spoke roughly. “That’s all.”

Desjani was once again pretending to be absorbed in something on her own display.

“When are we loading the Syndics into the shuttles?” Geary asked, his voice angry still.

“They should be on their way to the shuttle dock now,” Desjani replied in a tone that sounded suspiciously soothing to Geary. He was trying to decide whether to get irritated by that, too, when she stood up. “I was about to go down to see them off.”

Calming himself, Geary stood as well. “May I come along?”

“Of course, sir.”

The same scene as from eleven days ago was playing out on the shuttle dock, though in reverse as the column of Syndic civilians shuffled onto the shuttle, some pausing to wave quickly to individual members of Dauntless’s crew who had come to the shuttle dock and stood to one side, watching silently. The Marines seemed as menacing as ever in their battle armor, but the Syndics appeared to be less terrified of them.

The former mayor of Alpha turned to Geary and Desjani as they walked up. “Thank you. I wish I knew what else to say. None of us will forget this.”

To Geary’s surprise, Desjani answered. “If given the chance in the future, offer the same mercy to Alliance citizens.”

“I promise you that we shall, and we’ll tell others to do the same.”

The mayor’s wife moved forward to gaze intently at Desjani. “Thank you, lady, for my children’s lives.”

“Captain,” Desjani corrected, but bent one corner of her mouth in a crooked smile. She looked slightly down and nodded to the boy, who gazed back at her solemnly, then saluted in the Syndic fashion. Desjani returned the salute, then looked back to the mother.

“Thank you, Captain,” that woman stated. “May this war end before my children have to face your fleet in battle.”

Desjani nodded wordlessly again, then watched with Geary as the last of the Syndic civilians walked quickly into the shuttles. As the last hatch sealed, she spoke so quietly only Geary could hear. “It’s easier when they don’t have faces.”

It took him a moment to realize what she meant. “You mean the enemy.”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever met a Syndic before?”

“Only prisoners of war,” Desjani replied in a dismissive tone. “Syndics who’d been trying to kill me and other Alliance citizens a short time before.” Her eyes closed for a moment. “I don’t know what happened to most of them. I do know what happened to some of them.”

Geary hesitated to ask the obvious question. A short time after assuming command of the fleet, he’d learned to his horror that enemy prisoners of war were sometimes casually killed, the outgrowth of a hundred years of war in which atrocity had fueled atrocity. He’d never asked Desjani if she had participated in such a crime.

But she opened her eyes and looked steadily at him. “I watched it happen. I didn’t pull any triggers, I didn’t issue any orders, but I watched it, and I didn’t stop it.”

He nodded, keeping his own eyes on hers. “You’d been taught that it was acceptable.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“Your ancestors—”

“Told me it was wrong,” Desjani interrupted, something she rarely did with Geary. “I knew it, I felt it, I didn’t listen. I take responsibility for my actions. I know I’ll pay the price for that. Perhaps that’s why we lost so many ships in the Syndic home system. Perhaps that’s why the war has kept going all of these years. We’re being punished, for straying from what was right because we believed wrong to be necessary.”

He wasn’t about to reject her, or condemn someone who’d already accepted a full measure of blame. But he could stand alongside her. “Yeah, maybe we are being punished.”

Desjani frowned. “Sir? Why would you be punished for things done while you weren’t with us?”

“I’m with you now, aren’t I? I’m part of this fleet and loyal to the Alliance. If you’re being punished, then so am I. I didn’t suffer through all the years of war that you have, but all I knew was taken from me.”

She shook her head, frowning deeper. “You just said this is your fleet, and the Alliance has your loyalty. Those things weren’t taken from you.”

Geary frowned back at her, surprised to realize he’d never thought of it that way.

Desjani gave him an intent look. “They sent you when we needed you. They gave us a second chance. They gave you a second chance, instead of letting you die in the battle at Grendel or afterward, when your escape pod’s systems would have eventually given out. We’re being offered mercy if we can prove ourselves worthy of it.”

She had startled him again, with a point of view he’d never considered, and by including him as part of them all. Not a separate hero out of myth but one of them. “Maybe you’re right,” Geary stated. “We can’t win this war by destruction unless we go all out with the hypernet gates and commit species suicide. If this war is ever to end, we’ll not only have to beat them on the battlefield but also be willing to forgive the Syndics if they’re willing to express real remorse. Maybe we’re being given an example to follow.”

She was silent for a few moments, and he stayed quiet as well. The shuttle dock internal doors sealed between them and the shuttle, then the external ones opened, and the bird lifted off, carrying its passengers to the Syndic facility. Finally, Desjani looked back at him. “I’ve spent a long time wanting to punish the Syndics, to hurt them as they’ve hurt us.”

“I can understand why,” Geary said. “Thanks for going along with me on helping those civilians. I know it went against a lot of what you believe.”

“What I believed,” Desjani amended. She was quiet for a moment longer, but Geary waited, sensing that she had something else to say. “But that cycle of vengeance never ends. I realized something. I don’t want to have to kill that boy someday, when he’s old enough to fight.”

“Me, neither. Or his father or his mother. And I don’t want that boy trying to kill Alliance citizens. How can we end this, Tanya?”

“You’ll think of a way, sir.”

“Thanks.”

He meant it sarcastically, and was sure it sounded sarcastic, but Desjani smiled slightly at him. “Did you see how they looked at us? They were afraid, then they were disbelieving, and finally they were grateful.” She stopped smiling and looked outward. “I like fighting. I like going head-to-head with the best the Syndics have. But I’ve had enough of killing people like those. Can we convince the Syndics to stop bombarding civilian targets?”

“We can try. Our bombardment weapons are accurate enough that we can certainly continue to keep taking out industrial targets while minimizing civilian losses.”

Her face was grim now. “They kill ours, and we don’t kill theirs?”

“It’ll have to be a mutual deal. When we get back, we’ll tell them, stop bombarding our people, and we’ll continue not bombarding yours.”

“Why would they—?” Desjani stopped talking in mid-question, then gave Geary a long look. “And they might believe we’d abide by that since you’ve been demonstrating the willingness to do so.”

“Maybe.”

“And if they don’t stop?”

“We keep taking out their industry and military targets.” Desjani grimaced. “Listen, Tanya, if there’s nothing for those people to build or fight with, they’re a burden to the Syndics who have to worry about feeding them and taking care of them.”

“They’ll build new industrial sites. New defenses.”

“And we’ll blow those away, too.” Geary jerked his head to indicate roughly the space outside of Dauntless’s hull. “Ever since humanity achieved routine space travel, we’ve had the ability to destroy things with rocks tossed from space far faster and easier than humans on planets can build things. The Syndics can sink endless effort and resources into rebuilding and never catch up.”

She thought about that, then nodded. “You’re right. But that same logic applied a long time ago when we started bombarding civilian populations as well as military and industrial targets. Why did we start, all those decades ago?”

“I don’t know.” Geary cast his mind back, trying to imagine the point at which the people he had known a century earlier had changed to become people like those now. But there hadn’t been any point, any single event, rather what Victoria Rione had called a slippery slope in which one seemingly reasonable decision to escalate led to another. “Maybe revenge for Syndic bombardments of Alliance worlds. Maybe a tactic of desperation when the war kept going on and on. An attempt to break the enemy morale. We studied that when I was a junior officer, but as a lesson in what hadn’t worked. Time and again in history people tried bombarding enemies enough to make them quit. But when the enemies thought their own homes or beliefs were in danger, they never quit. Totally irrational, but then we’re human.”

“Syndic bombardments never made us want to give up,” Desjani agreed. “We’re very frustrated with our leaders, but we want them to win. We don’t want them to surrender. But not many people, especially in the fleet, still believe our leaders can win this war. That’s why—”

He glanced at her as she stopped speaking again. “Why I got a certain offer from Captain Badaya? You know about it, too?”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. It’s being widely talked about.”

“I won’t, Tanya. I won’t betray the Alliance that way, by accepting the offer to become a dictator. I told Badaya that.” She looked at the deck, her face expressionless. “It wouldn’t work, and it’d be wrong.”

Desjani spoke very, very quietly. “I have to ask you, have you been offered something else? If you agreed?”

He tried to remember, because whatever it was seemed to bother her a great deal, but couldn’t come up with anything.

“No. Nothing specific. It’s all been couched in very general terms.”

“You’re certain?” Her voice was angry now though still very quiet. “You haven’t been promised anything else, Captain Geary?” He shook his head, letting his puzzlement show. “Anyone else, Captain Geary?”

Anyone else? What could—? He was certain his shock showed. “You mean you?” he whispered, too stunned to speak in euphemisms.

She looked at him again, studying his face, and seemed to relax. “Yes. I’ve been urged by some individuals to … offer myself. I’ve wondered if they had offered me on their own.”

Geary felt heat in his face, embarrassment and anger rising in tandem. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so filled with rage. “Who?” he whispered savagely. “Who the hell had the bloody nerve to dare suggest such a thing to you? You’re not some prize or playing piece. Tell me who they are, and I’ll—” This time he had to choke off his words, aware that even a fleet commander couldn’t threaten to rip subordinates into tiny pieces and vent them out the air lock.

Desjani gave him a thin-lipped smile. “I can defend my own honor, sir. But thank you. Thank you very much.”

“Tanya, I swear, if I find out—”

“Let me deal with it, sir. Please.” He nodded reluctantly. “We should get back to the bridge, sir, to monitor what’s going on.” Another nod. One corner of Desjani’s mouth bent farther upward. “You wouldn’t make a good dictator, would you?”

“Probably not.”

“Perhaps there’s a reason for that, too.”

He kept waiting for something to go wrong, but the Alliance shuttles dropped off every Syndic civilian and lifted off again, then returned to their ships without any Syndic attempts to interfere with the operation. “Did we actually carry out an operation without the Syndics trying to double-cross us and booby-trap everything in sight?” Desjani asked.

“Looks like it. And so far our own double-crossers haven’t sprung any more traps on us, either.” Geary studied the display, as unwilling to believe it as Desjani. The shuttles all recovered, the Alliance fleet was cutting across one arc of Cavalos Star System toward the jump point that could access either Anahalt or Dilawa. “Three more days to the jump point?”

“Yes, sir. Unless something else happens.” Desjani clenched her jaw as alerts sounded. “And something just did.”

Syndic warships were becoming visible at the jump point they were heading toward.